


OC-tober 2020: Dingo Style

by verfound



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Atlantean Miracle Box, Character Development, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Gen, House Band, Ininko Montoya, Luka Chaos Couffaine, Luka's just trying to survive really, OC-tober, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic, Rating upped for Ch27, Rating upped for Dingo being STUPID with his junk, Rating upped for Dingo's Junk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 30,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26753407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: 31 prompts done in response to oc-growth-and-development's OC-tober challenge, featuring the Australian Dumbass himself, Dingo King.  And the poor bastards charged with reigning him in.
Relationships: Dingo King (OC)/Brielle Girard (OC), Luka Couffaine & Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Dingo King (OC)
Comments: 161
Kudos: 124
Collections: Crikey!  A Wild Dingo has Appeared!, Dammit Quick





	1. Oct 1: Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> I want to blame this on Mal, but to be honest I don’t really remember WHO sent me the list first because one of y’all found it then I was getting tagged in like five different places. xD @oc-growth-and-development has this #oc-tober prompt list, and I guess I’m paying attention to Dingo (and probably Bri, since they’re kinda a package deal) for the month. (...I can’t say I’m going to “flesh him out” without getting weirded out I’m so sorry. xD) I’m setting it for one twenty minute sprint a day and praying I don’t end up with another “…ooooh I need to dig deeper into this one” ficlet. There are already 24 Dingo Files in the works we don't need any more...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo's not a morning person. He's a late-night-rolls-into-morning person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sunrise  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: K Plus / PG / Most Ages  
> Notes: I don’t even know what this is. xD I had this idea of Dingo sneaking into Luka’s room at sunrise, then it became this…thought piece. Idek. xD

Dingo King is not a morning person. The only time he sees the sunrise is when midnight rolls into six AM and he’s still stalking the Parisian streets, or hunched up in a deck chair on the Liberty tapping out a drumbeat while his best mate noodles away on his guitar.

Luka isn’t necessarily made for mornings, either. (That will come in handy down the road, when things like purple butterflies make people run for cover and the need for second chances becomes greater.)

It’s not a bad thing. Not really. Dingo likes the night. He likes skulking around – not that he _skulks_. Not really. He likes to think he does, because he’s _punk_ and _badass_ and likes to think he’s intimidating enough to skulk. Luka once told him he’s just an overgrown puppy: a lot of bark but too eager to roll over for a belly rub when the right person offers. Luka maybe ended up shoved into a trashcan for that one.

Paris after dark is a cool place, anyway. Not as cool as Wagga Wagga, or his cousin’s place in Melbourne, but cool enough. Plus the Sunrise Crowd could be pretty cool. There are certain cafes that open early enough, and fourteen-year-old Dingo is already grossly addicted to coffee. Plus there’s that bakery, the one on the corner across from their collège. The baker and his wife rise with the sun, too, and there have been a few mornings that have caught Dingo skulking around with the morning deliveries.

“You should be sleeping, son,” the man laughs, handing him a croissant warm from the oven. Dingo grins that manic grin of his and raises the croissant in cheers.

“Best part of the day,” he says. “Plus, can’t be late to school if you’re at the gates before they open.”

The baker just laughs, tosses him another croissant, and heads back inside. His wife smiles as she signs the delivery slip, and then the truck is on its way.

“My daughter could take a lesson from you,” she laughs. “She’s starting there next year. I hope she learns to stop silencing her alarm by then.”

(Later, years later, Dingo might remember this and laugh. Sabine definitely will, and the first time the mohawked menace walks through the front door as a _friend_ she’ll have Regrets.)

Dingo takes his croissants and finds his usual perch on the wall along the steps. He sits cross-legged as the sun continues to climb in the sky. He’s not a morning person, but he likes this time. When the world is still waking up, and his classmates are slowly ambling onto the campus. When M. Damocles shoots him a stern glare and a nod as he makes his way to his office. When Mlle. Mendeleiev reminds him the homework was from chapter seven, not nine, and _write legibly this time, M. King._ There’s a hum in the air, a nervous energy that thrums beneath the stone and his skin and sets his hands to jitters against bouncing knees.

Luka and Brielle will be there soon. Luka later, as he has to drop Jules off at her school first. She’ll be starting here next year, too. There’s a commotion from across the street, and the baker’s girl runs out the side door in a flurry of pigtails and limbs she’s still growing into. He doesn’t know what school she goes to, but she usually runs off in the direction Luka comes from. He wonders if she knows Juleka. If they’re already friends, or if they will be come next year.

The world gets louder as the sky gets brighter. More students flow in. Bri snatches his coffee and takes a sip before grimacing and dumping it on the steps. He’s too young for that stuff, anyway. It’ll stunt his growth.

“I’ll make up for it with my hair,” he jokes with a grin. She asks if he slept. He brushes it off like it’s not important. They both know he doesn’t sleep. Three hours and a handful of naps isn’t unusual for him, anyway.

Luka arrives with another coffee (two, because the shadows under his own eyes are dark enough) and a box of pastries from across the street. The bell won’t ring for another ten minutes or so, but they head into Mendeleiev’s homeroom anyway. She gets more unbearable than usual if you’re _tardy_.


	2. Oct 2: Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 20m sprint that took an hour to write because while Dingo SHOULD know how to beg for mercy...let's be real he just won't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mercy  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine; background Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: My “20m Sprint a day” turned into an hour bc I could not for the life of me pair Dingo with “mercy”. xD I’m still not entirely crazy about this, but it’s better than the other two.

“This is all your fault.”

Dingo nods, still a little (a lot) shell-shocked.

“She’s going to kill you.”

Another nod. Luka’s not wrong.

“…shit. _I_ might kill you.”

“I would deserve it,” he finally sighs, reaching up to scrub at his face. His sunglasses get pushed up, and they tumble off his face when he drops his hands back down. He doesn’t try and retrieve them: the rookie cop might try to tase him again if he does.

“Ding,” Luka groans, dropping his head into his own handcuffed hands. Dingo would pat his shoulder, if not for his own cuffs. “All you had to do was pick up the cake.”

“Yeah, but…cake is so _boring_ ,” Dingo huffs, slouching back against the wall. “And Tom and Sabs were so busy with Mayor Bourgeois’s vow renewal –”

“Never call Ma S _Sabs_ again,” Luka groans, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I will help her kill you.”

“And Mari really should have trusted me more – I was helping Jules plan your birthdays _years_ before she came into the picture –”

“She’s my fiancée, Dingo! She’s allowed to throw me a surprise party if she wants!” Luka snaps, but Dingo’s on a roll now.

“Wouldn’t even take _any_ of my suggestions – no piñata! Who does that, eh?” he asks, and from the way Luka’s face twitches he knows he’s not helping his case any. “What? I was gonna put tequila in it!”

“You don’t… _that’s what started the fire, dumbass!”_ Luka shouts. The rookie, who had been left with orders to _not let those two out of your sight, I mean it kid_ by Captain Raincomprix fifteen minutes ago, looks back at the shout. He takes a step closer, his hand automatically going to his TASER, and Luka holds up his hands to show he means no harm. The rookie watches them another moment, uncertain. When they’re in the clear, Luka looks back at Dingo. “I said no tequila, Ding. I was very clear about _no alcohol at all_.”

Dingo snorts.

“Just because Mari’s a lightweight –”

“ _Just because I can’t trust you with a blood alcohol level higher than zero,_ ” Luka bites. Dingo gives him his brightest smile, but it doesn’t really work.

“I was being _vastly_ underutilized –” he tries again, and Luka twists enough that he can slap the back of his head.

“Marinette had everything covered!” he snaps. “All. You. Had. To. Do. Was. Pick. Up. The. Cake.”

“…I wanted churros,” Dingo sniffs, and Luka groans. It’s like arguing with a brick wall sometimes.

“It wasn’t _your_ birthday, Ding,” he says. “It was _mine_. And I love Mari’s cakes.”

“You love churros, too,” Dingo says indignantly.

“I love my fiancée,” Luka says, “who made me an amazing cake. That you just had to pick up and bring back to the flat. No churros. No tequila-filled piñata – how the hell does that even _work?_ ”

“There’s a straw, see, and –”

“I don’t actually care how it works, dumbass!”

“But you –”

“ _You crashed her car and set it on fire,_ ” Luka says, gesturing to the smoldering wreck the emergency crew was still inspecting, “ _while we were still inside it!”_

“Hey,” Dingo huffs, lifting his cuffed hands behind his head and relaxing on the wall. He’s done playing the martyr. They’ll get through this, like they always do. Marinette won’t really be _that_ mad. He’ll get away with minimal groveling and only a few pleas for mercy – hell, Luka’s probably already forgiven him! They’re _fine_. It’s not like anyone actually died! “We got an awesome story out of it, and Mari gets a new car!”

“She doesn’t want a new car,” Luka sighs. “She wants _that_ car. Gina gave it to her before she died. She _loves_ that car. She –”

“It’s a _car_ , mate,” Dingo grouses. Luka looks back at the smoldering wreck. Marinette was going to be devastated. “She’ll get over it.”

“…she’s going to kill you,” Luka sighs again, “and I’m going to help.”


	3. Oct 3: Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo is weird, but he's thirteen before he starts to think that might be a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Youth  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: K / G / All Ages  
> Notes: I kinda went in a ‘here’s a look at Young Dingo’ for this one, but I like how it turned out so I’m not entirely sorry for making the prompt vague. xD

Dingo King is five the first time he hears it. The _W_ word. _Weird_.

And it’s from the coolest person in the world. His cousin Connor, who’s gotten a lot less cool since he started learning about _appearances_ and _responsibilities_ and _being the Man of the House._ He isn’t as cool as he used to be, back before his dad went to live with the angels.

“Why are you so _weird?_ ” Connor asks, and Dingo just spits at his feet and wipes a sore hand across his mouth. One of the other kids – a girl, it sounds like, but it could be Malcolm – screams when blood and a tooth mix with the spit on the pavement. Brady just tugs on Connor’s shoulder and tells him to leave it.

Connor’s been leaving Dingo a lot lately.

“Go on!” Dingo shouts, the angry words lisping with his missing tooth. It had been loose, anyway. Mum won’t worry until she sees the split lip and the bloody nose, but Dingo’s the kind of boy that climbs trees and fights wallabies and chases koalas. It isn’t the first time he’s gone home bloody, and it certainly won’t be the last. “I hate you, anyway! _You’re_ weird!”

If he’s hurt Connor with his words, the older boy doesn’t show it. He just shoves Dingo back into the dirt, tells him to leave him alone (“I’m too old to play with _babies!”_ ), and leaves with his friends.

…Dingo doesn’t have any other friends. His parents spend too much time moving around, and he spends too much time running through the bush, and Connor’s the only one in the family who never looked at him like some wild, rabid animal left at the door.

Dingo sits there like his favorite cousin’s dismissal doesn’t hurt. Starts drawing in the dirt by the road, picking at the wildflowers Aunt Tilley planted there so that when the old lady from down the street stops and asks him if he’s ok he can say he’s making mud pies. That’s not unusual for him, and if not for the bloodied face she might have believed it.

They leave Melbourne that night and camp by the road halfway to Wodonga when Dad gets too tired to drive. Dingo’s already asleep by then, anyway, and doesn’t hear the heated conversation between his parents about _family_ and _Connor_ and _weird._

– V –

He’s eight and is called _weird_ so much he really doesn’t notice it anymore. Not really.

But it does hurt a little when Abigail turns her nose up, her lips twisting in a grimace when he offers her the wriggling worm he’s dug out of the dirt under the big tree.

“You’re _weird_ , Perry,” she sniffs, and then Katrina’s calling her away and she’s leaving him in the shade to play in his dirt. He looks back at his little friend before putting him back on the ground.

Abigail wasn’t that cool, anyway. She always calls him _Perry_ like their teacher, and she doesn’t like bugs, and she wears too much yellow. Girls are supposed to like pink, aren’t they?

– V –

He’s ten the first time he realizes it bothers him. Being called _weird_. He tells Mum this, after the other boys at school left him to play rugby again and he didn’t want to. He’s good at running, and he’s great at kicking, but he’s never been one for _team sports_. So he climbed the tree by the field, and Tommy had told the other boys to lay off.

“That’s the _weird_ kid,” Tommy had said, just loud enough that Dingo could hear him from the branches. “He never plays with us anyway.”

Well. Maybe he would if they actually wanted him to.

“Being _weird_ isn’t a bad thing, Perry,” Mum coos, brushing his blonde bangs out of his face. He looks up at her with uncertain eyes, and she drops a kiss on his forehead. It doesn’t make him feel as good as it used to, back when Mum’s kisses were magic and solved everything. “Your dad and I get called weird all the time. You don’t think we’re _weird_ , do you?”

He wants to tell her no, that he loves her very much and would never say something so hurtful, but then he remembers seeing her dancing in the yard under the full moon in all those scarves and bells and thinks, at least to Tommy and the other boys at school, she might be a little weird, after all.

She’s not weird to him, though. She’s just Mum.

– V –

He’s thirteen the first time someone calls him weird and it doesn’t sound like an insult.

“…you’re so weird,” the blue-haired boy Mendeleiev has him sit next to laughs. He smiles and raises his knuckles. Dingo hesitates only a second before he’s bumping his own against them. “I’m Luka.”

It’s the first time Dingo thinks he might actually make a friend. That he might actually be sad when Dad inevitably says they’re moving _again_ and he has to leave him behind.

“Dingo,” he says, and Luka laughs again like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever heard. Dingo hopes Dad doesn’t say they have to move for a long time.


	4. Oct 4: Ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's question leaves Dingo feeling a little attacked, so maybe he decides to attack her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ambush  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Lukanette, Bringo  
> Rating: K Plus / PG / Most Ages  
> Notes: “Ver, Ding’s the dumbass, goofball son. Why do you keep mixing FEELINGS into these?!” Because is Mari ambushing Dingo, is Dingo ambushing her, or am I ambushing y’all?

“Hey, Dingo?”

He looks up from the reading assignment he was really only half-focusing on anyway at the voice. Marinette’s sitting on the steps above him, her chin propped in her hand and elbow on her knee. She’s staring at the courtyard before them, and he follows her gaze to see Brielle and Luka talking. Luka says something that makes Bri laugh, and Dingo’s distracted for a moment by the way the sun glints on her nose ring, how wide and happy her mouth is, the shine of her hair as she throws her head back.

“Dingo?” Marinette asks again, and he shakes his head before turning back to her. He doesn’t get as distracted by Marinette as he does by Bri. That’s Luka’s job.

“Yeah, baby girl?” he asks, and she rolls her eyes at the endearment. She nods towards their friends, her fingers drumming an absentminded beat against her chin.

“What’s the deal with you and Bri, anyway?” she asks.

Dingo _almost_ chokes. Almost. But Dingo is unflappable, completely unable to be flapped, and just snorts and laughs it off like she’s the crazy one, not him.

“What’cha mean, _what’s the deal?_ There is no deal She’s Bri,” he says easily. She doesn’t look convinced. He dips his head, sliding his shades down his nose, and lifts his pierced eyebrow. “What’s the deal with you and Lulu?”

She actually does choke, spluttering out an indignant little squawk, before turning her red face away. Her eyes betray her, though, and slip back towards the courtyard in time to catch Luka’s eyes on her. Her face darkens a few shades and she glances away again.

“W-we’re…we’re friends,” she huffs, tapping her chin a bit sharper. “He’s a very good friend.”

“You know, for someone who was on the receiving end of _very good friends_ for as long as you were, you’re pretty quick to toss that around like it doesn’t mean anything,” he observes. She sucks in a breath, her head snapping back to him, but his nose is back in his book. He hopes she doesn’t notice it’s upside-down. “Luka tells me things.”

“He shouldn’t be telling you _those_ things,” she bites. He sighs and puts his book back down. He doesn’t even mark his spot.

“Easy,” he says. Brielle is looking for something in her bag, but Luka’s still watching them. His hand has fisted on his guitar strap, and Dingo gives a subtle shake of his head. That doesn’t seem to ease Luka’s concerns any, judging by the bleached knuckles. “He didn’t…it wasn’t like that. He just worries about you.”

“He shouldn’t have to,” Marinette says, but there’s less bite to it. More resignation. Dingo shrugs.

“Yeah, he should,” he says. He feels Marinette’s eyes on him again. “It’s what you do when you love someone, right? You worry about them. If they’re ok. If they’re happy. If they’re ever gonna love you back.”

“I –” she starts, but he waves her off.

“Am his friend, I know,” Dingo says. He tips his head back and grins at her. There’s a sort of hopeless abandon about that grin that sets her stomach squirming. “Just like I’m Bri’s friend. So I ask again, baby girl: _what’s the deal with you and Luka?”_

She looks at her lap, the uncomfortable expression on her face letting him know she feels a little attacked. The meaner part of him is glad for that: he felt much the same when she asked him. He sighs and looks back at the courtyard. Brielle is waving her arms at him, gesturing to the phone in her hand, and he winces as he remembers he was supposed to help her with an assignment. He slaps his hands on the steps and pushes himself up.

“It sucks, right?” he asks, dropping a hand on her head to ruffle her hair. Her face scrunches, and there’s a flash of annoyance in Luka’s eyes that Dingo’s become all too familiar with. He’s not _possessive_ , but he is…protective. He’s been trying to protect Marinette from Dingo since they first met. Dingo thinks maybe Marinette can more than hold her own and Luka just needs to chill the hell out. “At least you know where you stand with him, even if you’re not as willing to admit where he stands with you. Me? I’m just stupid in love with someone who probably won’t ever love me back.”

“…Bri loves you, Dingo,” Marinette says, and he pauses on the last step. Smiles a little, because he’s Dingo and all he ever does is smile. Even when he doesn’t really feel like it. “She does. She’s just… _Bri_.”

“No offense, baby girl,” Dingo says, pushing out a breath and shoving his hands in his pockets, “but you’re still new. Bri…Bri loves me as much as she’s able. I don’t think I’m it for her, though. Not like you and Lu.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Marinette says, and Dingo laughs. He doesn’t see the way Brielle’s gaze lingers on the glint of the sun on his shades, on how wide and happy his mouth is, and the bounce of his mohawk as he tosses his head back. She doesn’t get distracted by him, not like he gets distracted by her. Like Luka gets distracted by Marinette. “I think she loves you more than either of you are willing to admit.”

Bri’s still waiting for him in the courtyard, but Luka’s started making his way towards them. Towards Marinette. Dingo spares her one last glance, his shades tipped again so she can see the glint in his eyes.

“Tell you what,” he says, low enough that Luka won’t overhear, “how’s about you stop lying to yourself about my mate Luka there, and I’ll stop lying to myself about Bri? Thought you hated liars, anyway.”

…it was a low blow, and one Luka would give him hell for later, but…maybe not. Maybe he might end up thanking him. He slaps his hand against Luka’s shoulder, winking at him as they pass.

Maybe.


	5. Oct 5: Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo King loves fully. Completely. And more than a bit recklessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Beloved  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC)/Brielle Girard (OC), background Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: I was very under the weather yesterday, so double update today. Whoooo let’s do this! (I feel like this is a little…not rushed, but like I was trying to fit too much into the allotted time? Idk.)

Dingo is the kind of person who loves fully. Completely. Recklessly.

He knows Luka’s not the same way. Luka’s always been more guarded, more careful with his heart – though when he does give it, he gives it just as completely. It’s how Dingo knew Marinette was going to be around for a long, long time, back when Luka first came to school after the music festival humming unfinished tunes.

But Dingo? Dingo falls quickly. Dingo falls hard. Dingo falls totally.

Like when he’s four and gets his first drum. It’s a stupid little thing his Dad finds in a street fair, and it isn’t even what he’d been looking at initially – but Dingo had been fascinated by the little instrument, and he loves the noise it makes when he beats it, and it’s something he’s allowed to beat without getting yelled at (…much). What wasn’t there to love about drums?

Or when he’s seven and finds the stray dog sniffing through Grandfather’s trash bins. Grandfather tries to chase it off with his old rifle, but Dingo screams and hollers until the old soldier relents. They have that dog until the summer before they leave the island, when he’s too old and sick to survive the summer heat and…

Or when he turns thirteen and they move to Paris, and his cranky, stickler, kinda-crazy teacher sits him next to a blue-haired boy who introduces him to the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Brielle has hair that’s straight like a tree and colored like rich bark – or maybe it’s like a muddy waterfall, shielding her in its curtain when she wants the rest of the students to ignore her. Dingo can’t ignore her, though, and for the longest time he thinks that annoys her more than anything else. Her skin is darker than his, naturally tanned where his just gets ruddy and red. He tries comparing her to caramel once, because she’d been drinking an iced caramel macchiato and he’d thought comparing her to a treat he just wanted to eat up would be _cute_ , but she’d just dumped it on his head and told him that was racist. She wears too much black – because it helps her blend into the background, and it’s _cool_ , and when they’re almost sixteen she gets her nose pierced because that’s cool, too. (He pierces his eyebrow, because if Bri’s tough enough to get a piercing he can be, too. Luka just rolls his eyes at both of them, but Luka’s had his ears pierced since long before Dingo knew him.)

He knows Brielle for all of five minutes when he decides he’s going to marry her. He tells Luka this, and Luka – who has known Brielle most of his life and Dingo a few hours more than five minutes – laughs and tells him good luck.

“Brielle’s never going to marry anybody,” Luka tells him, nudging him back towards their classroom. “She’s like my ma. Married to freedom and her art.”

Dingo doesn’t fully understand that until he meets the Captain, and even then he thinks – hopes – Luka’s wrong. Because he loves Brielle, and he wants to marry her someday, and he doesn’t see that changing any time soon. Because Dingo King loves fully. Completely. Recklessly.

So maybe it surprises no one and everyone when they’re seventeen-going-on-eighteen and Brielle agrees to date him. Maybe it surprises everyone but him when she dumps him two months later just to take him back the next month (a pattern that follows them well into their twenties). Maybe it surprises him when Luka calls him back to the Liberty, saying he has to make it within the hour because he can’t very well get married without his best man, and as the Captain oversees the little ceremony on the river she leans over to him and asks, “So…when are we doing this, Perry?”

And he knows she’s serious, because she _never_ calls him Perry unless she means it.

So it probably surprises no one when Luka dips Marinette back in a kiss and Dingo clears his throat, asking the Captain if she’s got another ceremony in her and if Luka and Marinette would terribly mind sharing. Because they really need to get this done before Bri can change her mind.

Because Dingo loves fully. Completely. Recklessly. And he’s loved Brielle Girard – now Brielle _Queen_ , because Fuck the Patriarchy she refuses to take his name and be a _King_ – since he was thirteen years old.

And he’s convinced he’ll never love anyone more – until he meets Kurt.

“I made this,” he whispers in hushed wonder, looking at the sleeping baby in a bit of a daze. Brielle, still exhausted from the delivery and the drugs, clears her throat weakly, and Dingo offers up a sheepish smile. “ _We_ made this.”

“Damn straight,” Brielle says on a yawn, and he falls for her all over again. Fully. Completely. And more than a bit recklessly.


	6. Oct 6: Luxury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo wasn't planning on spending the day in Jagged Stone's hotel room babysitting the most famous crocodile in rock-n-roll history. He's not complaining, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Luxury  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Jagged Stone  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: …it took me SIX DAYS to get Jagged in here. Be proud, y’all. xD

Dingo King is living the _Good Life_. Capital G. Capital L. And he is fucking _loving it_.

If you would have told him when he woke up that morning that he would be spending the better part of his day in Jagged Stone’s personal suite at Le Grand Paris Hotel with the rock giant’s infamous pet crocodile using him as her personal pillow, he would have laughed in your face. Of course, that was before he realized his new friend Marinette Dupain-Cheng was Jagged Stone’s personal…ish…stylist (sorta? Kinda? It’s complicated, and entirely because she’s not yet legal and able to be hired full-time). Or that his best mate might just quite possibly sorta he doesn’t really wanna talk about it yet be Jagged Stone’s erstwhile son.

…actually, Dingo had missed a _lot_ over a very short period of time, and he wasn’t entirely sure how, but he’s usually pretty quick on the uptake.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t fully know?” Luka had said after relaying the frantic message Marinette had texted him. The SOS that had begged his presence at Le Grand Paris like twenty minutes ago. “It’s…been weird. I’ve been processing.”

“I get that, but _mate_ ,” Dingo had said, gesturing to the spot on his wall that used to hold the giant Jagged poster. He had thought it weird when Luka had taken it down, but he’d figured Luka would talk if he needed to.

It kind of hurt that he never felt like he needed to.

“For the longest time I just thought he was Ma’s old bandmate,” Luka had said with a shrug. “Jagged only insisted on the test…well, I think _Penny_ insisted on the test? I don’t even know. We just got the results last month. I’ve been –”

“Processing, yeah,” Dingo had scoffed, but he hadn’t meant it in a mean way. He clapped a hand on Luka’s shoulder and grinned. “So what’s your girl need? Besides you?”

Luka had shoved him off with a glare, and they’d left shortly after to meet Marinette at the hotel.

It’s a complicated, convoluted mess of poor planning (on Jagged’s part, never Penny’s) and botched appointments, and Marinette was _supposed_ to babysit Fang, except Jagged needed her at this junket because he had to talk outfits, and the owners of the venue were being _difficult_ about his poor baby, and Jagged would have cancelled on them if Penny hadn’t been so insistent that the meeting was crucial to launching their new label, and hey why doesn’t Luka do it?

…except Luka still isn’t quite ready to see Jagged yet, so there’s this complicated avoidance of crossing of paths that isn’t really as complicated as it could have been (the hotel is _huge_ , and how hard is it to stagger comings and goings?), but at the end of it all Luka and Dingo had found themselves in Jagged’s personal suite, with Fang, for the better part of the day. And it had been going _great_ , and Dingo was having a _ball_ , and Fang really was the coolest crocodile in rock-n-roll history – except they’d run out of macarons.

And Fang knew it.

And Fang gets _really cranky_ when she’s out of macarons.

So Luka had left him with explicit instructions to _not leave her alone_ , and _don’t touch anything_ , and _oh my God Ding if you fuck this up –_

But Luka was only supposed to be gone for ten minutes tops, and what was the worst that could happen?

And for once in Dingo King’s life, karma didn’t come and bite him in the ass. Fang behaved. She actually took a nap. While he was sprawled out on a beach chair placed on Jagged’s indecently huge balcony. With her head in his lap. At one point Dingo would have sworn she’d started _purring,_ but he’s Australian and well-versed in crocodiles and know crocs _hiss_ , not _purr_ , but either way Fang seemed pretty fucking happy to use him as a pillow.

And no one’s ever gonna believe him, anyway, so he figures he might as well enjoy it, because how weird is his life, anyway?

Except Luka’s trip isn’t ten minutes. It’s more like an hour? Which is ok, he guesses, because he kind of falls asleep in the chair with the sun beating down on him and three-maybe-four hundred kilograms of croc sitting on him, so it’s not like he missed anything. It’s not like either of them had any chance to get into trouble. They were perfectly fine, being left alone. Unsupervised.

Luka really should trust him more by this point, which is exactly what Dingo plans on telling him when he hears the door open almost two hours after Luka ran out for macarons.

“Well it’s about fucking time, mate!” he calls when the footsteps approach. They’re heavy, booted, and he wonders if Luka switched his bike for the Captain’s _bike_ to make it back in time. “And you thought we’d burn the place down. To make up for your stellar lack of faith in me, you better have extra macarons.”

There’s a prolonged moment of silence. Just long enough to make him…concerned. So he tips his shades up and looks back over the lounger, where _Jagged fucking Stone_ is standing there in all his black-and-purple, yellow-striped glory looking _Unamused_.

“Ah…hi,” Dingo says, wiggling his fingers in a nervous wave. Fang’s tongue lolls out of her mouth, but she doesn’t lift her head to greet her papa. Jagged’s fingers tap against his elbow, and it sounds like a warning to Dingo’s ears. Beside him, Marinette has gone almost as pale as her shirt, her fingers clamping onto her sketchbook in a death-grip as her eyes try to bug out of her skull.

“Who the _fuck_ ,” Jagged asks, his voice sharp and piercing and covering the gasping breath Marinette sucks in, “are you?”


	7. Oct 7: Cliff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I throw Dingo (and Luka) off a cliff. For funsies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cliff  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Juleka Couffaine; Lukanette, Bringo  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: *maniacal giggling* Hey I’m throwing dumbasses off cliffs today~

“This…is a _horrible_ idea,” Luka mutters, blue eyes glancing uncertainly over the ledge.

“This is a _fantastic_ idea,” Dingo insists. Behind them, Juleka snorts.

“No, Lu’s right,” she says. She’s a good ten feet behind them, phone raised and camera at the ready. “This is a horrible idea, and if the ocean doesn’t kill you Penny, Mari, and Bri will all be in line to.”

They all know Jagged won’t. If he knew what they were getting up to, he’d be right there beside them. If he didn’t push them in, he’d definitely be running ahead of them. But Penny? She’s definitely going to freak. Marinette, too. Brielle…Brielle will care, eventually. When she’s done being mad.

“The ocean is our friend,” Dingo scoffs like he’s an oar-wielding Disney _Daughter of a Chief Not Princess._ “Boat Kid, remember?”

“You’re going to die, and I’m going to laugh,” Juleka deadpans. She wags her phone at them. “And I’m recording it all to play at your funerals.”

It _almost_ gives Luka pause, because he thinks of blue eyes and a dazzling smile and thinks he’s maybe not ready to die yet. It doesn’t make Dingo hesitate at all, because they’re young and reckless and what else are you going to do in Hawaii if not cliff jump? Wasn’t that an unwritten rule – or, better yet, he was pretty sure it was law. When you’re young and stupid and crazy and find yourself _opening for Jagged freaking Stone in Hawaii_ , you _have_ to throw yourself off a cliff.

Dingo doesn’t make the rules.

He just follows them.

…sorta. The fun rules, at least. Rules that stipulate he has to throw himself off a cliff when he finds himself in Hawaii.

“You know you wanna,” he whispers to Luka, who just frowns as he looks over the cliff at the waves crashing down below. It’s not really _that far_ of a jump. He’s made worse, in and out of his super suit. He can almost hear the hissing laugh from his hoodie, even though he’s only dressed in swim trunks and Sass is twelve thousand kilometers away back in Paris. It’s almost challenge enough, and Luka thinks his kwami would give him untold levels of hell if he doesn’t. About as much hell as Marinette will give him if he does.

“I really do,” Luka sighs, grinning back at him. He glances over his shoulder, where Juleka is still smirking at them with her camera raised.

“You jump, I jump, Jack,” Dingo says, peering over the ledge one more time with a crazed little grin. Luka’s eyebrows soar.

“Did you just…” he starts, shaking his head in baffled amusement, “…did you just quote _Titanic_ at me?”

“Nah,” Dingo says, snorting as he leans back. “ _Gilmore Girls_.”

“That’s not any better,” Luka scoffs, “and I’m pretty sure they were quoting _Titanic_.”

“Whatever,” Dingo says, and the next thing Luka knows their arms are linked and Dingo’s taking a running leap towards the edge, hauling his ass behind him. “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!”

“Oi!” Luka cries, not intentionally completing the chant as Dingo jumps and they both hurtle over the edge. “Oi! Oooooiiiiiii!!!!”

The water is cold and clear, and they hit it with an almighty _splash_ that almost covers up Luka’s scream and definitely covers up Juleka’s laugh. His throat and chest burn as he takes in a lungful of the sea, but years of experience kick in and he’s pushing himself back towards the surface in a moment, breaking through with a gasp that turns into a cough as he bobs in the water. Dingo pops up beside him a moment later like a freakin’ mermaid or Michael Phelps, whooping and hollering with his arms thrust into the air. Luka cuts his arm through the water, splashing his friend as he settles beside him.

“A little warning next time, jackass!” he snaps. “At least let me take a breath!”

But Dingo isn’t the slightest bit sorry, and he’s already swimming back towards the shore.

“Come on!” he calls, and Luka groans as he sets off after him. “We have _got_ to do that again!”

– V –

The video goes viral, much to Luka’s chagrin. Well. The second one does, but that’s only because Jagged had found them and joined in. Penny had chewed them out when they got back to the hotel, and she flips Jagged off when he tries to serenade her with an apology at the show that night.

Luka isn’t so lucky. Or maybe he’s more so.

He gets back to his hotel room to find Marinette sitting on his bed, feeding a granola square to Kaalki. She’s furious when she sees him, and all he can do is laugh nervously as he waves. She crosses to him in a handful of strides, grabs the hoodie she keeps begging him to throw out, and pulls him to her in a harsh kiss.

“Don’t you _ever_ scare me like that again, Couffaine,” she bites, and all he can do is nod a little helplessly, dazed as he is by her kiss. “Hawkmoth’s gone. Our days of near-death experiences are supposed to be _over_.”

“Aye, aye,” he says, and he doesn’t argue when she pulls him back in for another bruising kiss.

(…Dingo isn’t so lucky. Brielle’s seen the video – both, and how could she not when Juleka personally tagged her and Marinette in them? – and she’s _pissed_. She won’t answer his calls, and Marinette refuses to take him back with her when she returns home. Inkki also refuses to waste his Astro Power-up on _such a frivolous endeavor_ , so Dingo suffers through Hawaii, and California, and halfway to New York before Bri answers his text messages again.

_BG: You should have smashed your damn head on the rocks, dumbass.)_


	8. Oct 8: Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's not playing with Dingo at the Music Festival this year. He's playing with Juleka's new band. Kitty...Section.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Festival  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: K Plus / PG / Most Ages  
> Notes: Sing it with me: “YOU KNOW I LOVE UNICORNS!!!”

Dingo isn’t mad. He’s…hurt, a little. Put-out. Disappointed. And all of it just enough to be, as always, _annoying_.

“But _why?_ ” he insists, tapping his foot against the amp he’s sitting on, It’s not a nervous gesture, and it’s not from agitation. If anything it’s an excess of energy, a constant need to be in motion and not stand still. Luka doesn’t read anything into the toe-tapping because there’s nothing to read: it’s just how Dingo is. _Dingo_ and _still_ don’t really get along all that well. “I always play the Festival with you.”

“And this year you’re gonna have to play on your own,” Luka says, shrugging as he moves aside the Captain’s old bodhrán. Dingo reaches for it automatically – Dingo loves all drums, and that one had become a particular favorite when he’d first discovered it in the Liberty’s stores – and Luka hands it over without a second thought. A steady, rapid tapping immediately fills the space between them. “It’s nothing personal, Ding.”

“Feels personal,” he huffs, and Luka tries not to roll his eyes.

“It really isn’t,” he says. He pushes himself away from the crate and sighs, puffing out his cheeks as he looks around the mess. He would have sworn the extra cables were back there… “It’s just Jules’s thing. I told her I’d help, so I’m helping.”

“But what about _our_ band?” Dingo whines, and Luka laughs.

“We don’t have a band,” he says. Dingo stops playing long enough to gasp indignantly.

“Oi, rude! We so do! We…we’re…ah…” he trails off uselessly, and Luka shoves at him.

“See? No band,” he says. “We just play.”

“Which is the first step to forming a band!” Dingo says, and Luka fails at not rolling his eyes that time. He sits back on the deck and turns towards his friend.

“Look, this is important to Jules, ok?” he sighs, picking at the rips in his jeans. Dingo looks unimpressed. “It’s important to Rose, so it’s important to Jules. And…it’s actually been kinda fun. Ivan’s a pretty cool guy. I mean…I don’t expect to revolutionize the industry singing about _unicorns_ , but Rose knows what she likes and writes a pretty kickass song. You gotta respect her for that.”

“She wants to call the band _Kitty Section_ ,” Dingo deadpans, and Luka laughs.

“It’s great, right?” he asks, and Dingo taps the bodhrán a bit sharper. Luka picks at his jeans again. “As first bands go, they could do worse.”

“Kitty Section is gonna kick ass and you know it,” Dingo scoffs. “I dunno about Ivan and Rose, but they got you and Jules, so you’re bound to be good.”

“Will you come, at least?” Luka asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Even if Ivan’s on drums and Jules doesn’t want you playing with us?”

“If I can,” he says. “I dunno. I may see if anyone else is doing anything. I’d rather _play_ the festival, not observe.”

“I love Jules and her friends,” Luka said, “but I’d like to have at least _one_ of my own friends around.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you joined a band without me,” Dingo sniffs, and the beat he taps out is sardonic and mocking. “Traitor. And _collège_ kids, too. Ugh.”

Luka just rolls his eyes. Whatever Dingo thinks, he has a good feeling about the music festival – about Kitty Section – this year.

– V –

When Marinette Dupain-Cheng stumbles into his cabin, stuttering about _mamas_ and _grooves_ , Luka’s suddenly very glad Dingo found another group at school to play with.

…it’s easy enough to make an ass of himself around her, he realizes too quickly when her smile vanishes at his gentle teasing. He doesn’t need Dingo King around to do it for him.

– V –

The Monday after the Music Festival, Luka walks into their homeroom with his fingers tapping anxiously against his thighs, a barely-composed melody humming under his breath. He sits at his desk beside Dingo and pulls out a crumpled-up paper, and Dingo’s eyebrows soar over his shades as he scans the scrawling, scribbled, crossed-out notes and staffs filling the page. Words like _sincere_ and _extraordinary_ and _Ma-Ma-Marinette_ are scribbled around the music, and it doesn’t take long for Dingo to realize he missed something _big_ on Saturday.

Bigger than the Captain getting akumatized and terrorizing Paris, and probably why his mate hadn’t answered his phone at all the previous day.

“What’s that?” he asks, grinning as he props his chin on his folded arms. Luka pretends not to notice him, or maybe he honestly doesn’t, and Dingo kicks his leg under the table. “Oi. What’s that?”

The staff Luka was scrawling goes jagged, and Luka’s lips purse in annoyance. Maybe not annoyance. It’s that look he gets when he’s puzzling out a particularly difficult tune, like maybe he’s on the verge of a breakthrough but…

“…but it fits,” he mutters to himself, making Dingo’s grin widen. “She’s…there’s…hesitance? Uncertainty? Maybe…”

“Lu,” Dingo calls again, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Luka jumps, and Dingo snickers. “She?”

“What?” he asks, and Dingo’s smile turns wicked.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he sneers, though not unkindly, “ _She?_ ”

Luka glares at him, weakly, but it disappears when he looks back at his paper. His smile softens, and Dingo’s eyes widen as he _doodles a heart_ by the _ma-ma_ note.

He has no idea who _Ma-Ma-Marinette_ is, but he can tell Luka has it _bad_.

…he can’t wait to meet her.


	9. Oct 9: Mentor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka has a date. With Marinette.
> 
> ...and her boyfriend.
> 
> (Dingo thinks his best mate is a fucking idiot.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mentor  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC)  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: “You need an advisor – a satyr but wiser!” I had this idea of Dingo being like “Ok mate LET THE MASTER TEACH YOU”, but then it kinda turned into this?

“I’m a fucking idiot.”

Dingo snorts, shifting slightly to better balance his phone between his shoulder and his ear. He keeps tapping his pencil against his notebook, chewing his lip a little as he puzzles out his math homework.

“Well, yeah,” he agrees, nodding a little even if Luka can’t see him. “I’ve known that for years. But why this time, though?”

“I’m going ice skating tomorrow,” Luka says, and that gives Dingo enough pause to miss a beat with his pencil. His eyebrows furrow.

“Er…ok?” he asks. “You’re a great skater, though.”

“With Marinette.”

Dingo actually drops his pencil.

“Wait, what?!” he asks, suddenly not very interested in his homework at all. It’s ok: it’s Friday. He has the entire weekend to finish, right? “But…what…way to bury the lead, asshole!”

“ _And Adrien_ ,” Luka continues, and suddenly it all makes sense. Dingo pushes out a breath somewhere between a sigh and a groan and all frustration, and he leans back against the wall. His notebook falls from his knee, forgotten on his bed.

“You…are a fucking idiot,” he agrees, and the strangled little whine Luka makes would have made him laugh if he didn’t feel so bad for his dumbass friend. “So not a date, then.”

“…no, I’m pretty sure it’s a date,” Luka groans. Dingo’s eyes narrow. “Adrien asked out another girl, and he asked Marinette to go with them to…I don’t even know what Adrien’s thinking.”

“He’s not,” Dingo scoffs, “or he’s just as fucking stupid as you are.”

“He thought having another friend along would make it easier, I guess? And then Marinette asked me because…” Luka trails off, and Dingo sighs again.

“You all need a seminar,” he scoffs. “Dating for Dumbasses 101.”

“Like you’d do any better,” Luka snaps. Dingo grins.

“I would, actually,” he preens. “Long game, remember? I’m wearing her down.”

“You are no more qualified to advise my love life than I am to advise yours,” Luka deadpans. Dingo’s only a little insulted.

…if either of them were actually interested in dating, or interested in dating beyond…y’know…the girls that were interested in dating people who weren’t them, they’d probably do fine. Great, even. They were both very attractive guys with a lot to offer the dating scene! They could easily find a lady friend – or a guy friend – to occupy their weekend nights if they wanted!

But Luka had always been too invested in his music to really notice the girls (and guys) flocking around him, and when he finally did notice one she was too invested in sunshine and model smiles to notice him back.

And Dingo…people just don’t like Dingo. So it shouldn’t really have surprised him when he fell for someone who also didn’t like him.

But if Dingo had learned anything over his seventeen years of life, it was that he was kind of like erosion. Given enough time, he could wear almost anyone down. He wasn’t giving up on Bri just yet.

“…them,” Luka’s voice comes from his phone again, snapping him out of his thoughts and back to the conversation. “I _know_ I should have said no, but…I couldn’t just leave her to be their third wheel. That’s going to be so hard for her. I couldn’t…”

“I know,” Dingo sighs, flopping back on his bed. “You’re too damn noble, Couffaine.”

“…it’ll still be time with Marinette,” Luka says, and he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of it as much as he’s trying to convince Dingo.

“It’s not a date, though,” Dingo points out. He doesn’t do it to be mean. He doesn’t even really think Luka needs the reminder. It’s just…said to be said.

“I don’t think I’d want it to be,” Luka sighs. “I don’t want our first date to be…I want her there for me, if we ever get there. I know Adrien’s important to her, but if we ever date…is it selfish if I don’t want her distracted by Adrien the entire time we’re together?”

“That’s not selfish,” Dingo says. “That’s more than reasonable. You don’t want to be her backup. You just want to be hers.”

Luka groans again, and Dingo tries to laugh.

“Tomorrow’s gonna suck, innit?” he asks. He imagines Luka would be flipping him off if he was actually there.

“…no,” Luka says, sounding a bit firmer that time. “No. Because it’s going to be a great day with Marinette.”

“And her boyfriend,” Dingo scoffs.

“And her _good friend_ who is there with his girlfriend,” Luka insists. Dingo wonders if they’re ever going to be able to say _good friend_ without wanting to punch someone after all this.

“Mate?” he asks, and Luka pushes out another heavy breath before he answers him. Dingo smiles wryly at his ceiling. “You are a fucking idiot.”

“…I’m a fucking idiot,” Luka agrees, and all Dingo can do is smile. Well. At least they’re on the same page.


	10. Oct 10: Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo never shuts up, so why is it when Luka just needs to hear everything he has nothing to say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Silence  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Really I don’t know what else you’d be expecting with a prompt like that…

“I need you to say something,” Luka says, sounding so small compared to…well. He’s never been as loud or as _big_ as Dingo, but Dingo’s never heard him sound so small and fragile before, either.

This was supposed to be Kitty Section’s big break. A good thing. Things had been going so well for two weeks now…

“I don’t know what to say, Lu,” he finally says, shrugging a little helplessly. Luka hugs his knees tighter to his chest, curls in on himself a bit more.

“I need to hear _something_ ,” Luka continues, though it’s muffled by his knees. “I can’t do si…quiet.”

And Dingo supposes it’s true. The Liberty is never _quiet_ , not really, but Luka’s cabin is painfully so, especially compared to how it was when Dingo had first gotten there. It wasn’t even the usual music that could be heard always coming from _somewhere_. The TV in the common area had been set to some news channel, the reporters’ voices a constant droning in the background. His phone had been playing Jagged Stone’s last album on his amp. On the desk he shared with Juleka, his laptop had been opened to some tutorial channel on YouTube – another voice to drown out the sil… _quiet_. The old radio in the corner had even been tuned to France Info, some interview with some famous so-and-so playing against it all. Luka had turned most of it all off when Dingo had walked in with tacos (because after almost two years as a delivery boy Luka couldn’t stand pizza) and every intention to distract his best mate from what had been plaguing him all week.

Because Luka had been plagued. Anyone would be. Hell, Dingo had been surprised to see him at school on Monday after…

Most people took at least a day, even if their…even if they weren’t one of the bad ones. To process.

But Luka had insisted it was better. The boat had been too quiet, after…he needed the voices. He needed to hear people talking, a lot of people talking, to remember they could. To remind himself he had no say over what those voices got to say, anyway.

The TV from the common area is still droning on, but the Captain’s home (she’d been staying closer to home than usual lately) and had switched it to some music channel. They’re playing a documentary on Van Halen.

“Please just talk,” Luka groans, sounding miserable. “You never shut up. Why are you shutting up now?”

“I don’t know what to say, do I?” Dingo sniffs, pulling at a loose thread on the comforter. “It’s not like it’s happened to me. I wasn’t there.”

“…I could’ve hurt her,” Luka says, barely loud enough to be heard, and Dingo sighs. He tips over, bumping his shoulder against Luka’s side.

“No, you really couldn’t,” he says. “I may not know first-hand, but people talk, Lu. Akumas might run on your darker emotions, but it’s still you.”

“That is not helping,” Luka bites, and Dingo nudges him again.

“My _point_ ,” he continues, and he flicks Luka’s temple for good measure, “is that no matter how angry you were. No matter what you think you _could_ have done. No matter what you did. It was still you, Luka. You would _never_ hurt Marinette.”

Luka doesn’t say anything. Dingo sighs. He keeps talking.

“Besides, it’s not like you took _her_ voice,” he says. “Though I would have _loved_ to see Ladybug’s face when you took hers. You realize if she hadn’t tricked you, you might’ve actually been the akuma to win?”

Luka still says nothing. Luka _can’t_. He doesn’t share the dreams, the snippets and fragments of what he thinks are memories, that make him think Dingo’s wrong. That only reinforce the suspicions he’s had ‘til now. That make him think he _did_ steal Marinette’s voice, and that he _did_ hurt her, but that maybe he wouldn’t have taken Ladybug’s earrings anyway. He hopes he wouldn’t have. He hopes, if Sil…if the akuma really was him under it all, he would have realized. He wouldn’t have….he would have fought. Right?

He’s too far into his head, and it’s too quiet, and for the first time since the Music Festival even that clear, piercing melody that’s been playing on constant loop in his head isn’t enough to make him feel better. To drown out the echoes of voices still there and the quiet of ones still not.

“Just…say something,” he begs, his knuckles blanching against the grip on his knees. “ _Please_.”


	11. Oct 11: Craft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Luka gets in an accident, Dingo agrees to watch Manon so Marinette can be with him.
> 
> ...proooobably not the best idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Craft  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Manon Chamack, Luka Couffaine; Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Dingo was totally the kid who ate enough glue to poop an ornament, and if you don’t believe me I haven’t been doing my job right.

“Baby girl,” Dingo says, _sighs_ , clamping his hands on Marinette’s shoulders and giving her his most winning smile. She still watches him with a fair degree of uncertainty and distrust, which…fair. “I’ve got this.”

“But she’s…” Marinette tries to say, and Dingo scoffs before waving her off.

“A kid,” he says. “How hard can it be? You do this all the time.”

Except Marinette is responsible. Marinette has been more of a grown-up her entire life than Dingo’s ever been, even at eighteen. Marinette would quite easily _have this_. Dingo, at best, will be _winging it_.

It’s not like he hasn’t winged things before.

“Go,” he said, stepping back to stand by Manon. He reaches down to ruffle her hair, loosening her pigtails a little, and the Chamack girl reaches up to bat his hand away. “We’ll be fine. Do some arts and crafts or something – easy stuff.”

Marinette looks _terrified_ of that idea, and he wonders if it’s the thought of him with scissors or glue that scares her more.

“Or we can just watch some telly!” Dingo laughs, and she seems more ok with that idea. Manon doesn’t look impressed, but he winks at her when Marinette turns to grab her purse. He nudges her towards the door – pushes her out into the hall, really. “Now go, Mari. We’ll be fine. We’ve got this. Lulu needs you more than Manon does.”

…which is only half true. Luka had known Marinette was supposed to babysit, and he had been adamant that he’d be _fine_ , but Dingo knew Marinette would kill both of them if no one told her. It was easier to leave Luka with Bri at the hospital than end up in traction next to him.

“But –” Marinette starts, and Dingo shoves her out the door and slams it in her face.

“GO!” he hollers. “I’ve got this!”

Manon giggles behind him, and he spins on his heel to grin at her, slapping his hands on his knees as he bends over.

“Right! So, you’ve got Uncle Dingo for the afternoon!” he crows. Manon’s face twists in annoyance.

“You’re not my uncle,” she says, her voice a little too curt and snippety for a kid her age. He frowns.

“Well, yeah,” he says. “What’cha call Mari, then?”

“Marinette’s just _Marinette_ ,” Manon scoffs. She’s still frowning, and for the first time since Dingo rolled in to tell Marinette about Luka’s biking accident he felt a sense of unease. “You’re stupid.”

…well, mean. True, but _mean_. How old was this kid, anyway? Five? Ten? Two?

“Ooook,” Dingo says, nodding. “Well. What’cha wanna do then, Manon?”

“Marinette was gonna take me to the park,” Manon says. Her grin turns a little wicked, and Dingo wonders if maybe he should’ve just told Marinette to take Manon to the hospital with her. That grin is one of _his_ grins, and it’s terrifying seeing it on someone so young and not him. “We were gonna get _ice cream_ and –”

“Yeah, nah,” Dingo says, and he shoves her towards the steps to Marinette’s room. “Arts and crafts it is! You know where Mari keeps her crafting shit, right?”

Manon gasps like he’s just committed cold-blooded murder in front of her, and it takes him a moment to backtrack. Realize what he’s said, how young she probably is (he’s not sure…six?), and that Marinette and Mme. Chamack will probably wring his neck when Manon tells them he said _shit_ in front of her young, impressionable ears.

“…fuck,” he groans, and she gasps again.

It’s going to be a long-ass day.

– V –

It’s actually not that bad a day, in the end. Well. It’s been a bad day for Luka, but he heals quick and will get over it. It’s just a broken leg. He’s walked off worse.

But Dingo and Manon, after the initial period of _How Much Can I Get Away With You Have No Rules I Can Get Away With A Lot Huh_ , actually got on pretty well. After so many years of babysitting, Manon knew exactly where Marinette’s crafting supplies – at least the ones she was allowed to use – were, along with a host of other goodies Marinette probably didn’t want Dingo knowing about.

(The chest by her window wasn’t just scrap fabric like he’d thought: there’s a steadily growing collection of gifts inside, which Manon informs him are all for Luka. There’s at least three years’ worth of birthday, Christmas, and anniversary gifts in there, and that makes Dingo giggle a little too much like Manon for anyone’s comfort.)

So when Marinette and Luka return from the hospital (because the Captain’s out of town for the week, Juleka’s staying with Rose’s family, and Marinette refuses to leave Luka alone with a broken leg), Dingo and Manon are set up at the kitchen table with paper of various hues, scissors, glitter, glue, beads, sequins, markers, and popsicle sticks scattered around them. There’s even a bag of yarn (the cheap stuff she keeps around for Manon, not the good stuff she’d lynch him for using), and Dingo had been showing Manon how to wind it around a popsicle stick frame to weave an _Ojos de Dios_.

…well.

That’s what he had been doing just before they’d walked (and limped) through the door.

What’s happening when they actually get home is Manon is weaving some pink yarn around the frame. Dingo has his head tipped back, and Manon is squealing as he dangles a cotton swab full of glue over his tongue. Marinette shrieks, and Dingo actually chokes a little on the glue he hadn’t really been intending on putting in his mouth (he hasn’t eaten glue since he was ten). Luka just sighs and leans a bit more heavily on his crutches.

“Ding…” he groans. “Please tell me what I’m seeing is the painkillers and not you being an actual, for real idiot.”


	12. Oct 12: Drip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka proposes to Marinette. Or tries to.
> 
> Dingo was only supposed to record it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Drip  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Quick practically gift-wrapped this one, but I was running nonstop Monday & got too ambitious with it. I broke my time limit to get the full idea in and I’m still thinking it needs a full fic and not a prompt ficlet? I wasn’t gonna think that with any of these and whoops…

“Are you ready?” Dingo asks, fidgeting with the camera a little. Luka’s fidgeting himself, but with something much smaller. He grins at Dingo, and there’s something…not helpless, but kinda, about that grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” he says. He looks back at the pick in his hands – it’s an old one, one he gave away years ago but keeps finding its way back to him – and flips it over his knuckles again. “Think she’ll say yes?”

“You actually think she’ll say _no?_ ” Dingo snorts, and Luka shoves him a little. “She’d be crazy not to.”

“I’m just crazy enough to be afraid she will,” Luka confesses, and Dingo snorts again.

“Not crazy,” he says, fidgeting with the settings on the camera. He wishes they would just let him use his phone, but Rose was insistent the _Moment_ had to be captured with an actual video camera. Some old-fashioned sentimentality or something. He looks back up at Luka and grins. “Just stupid.”

“Ding –” Luka starts, but then they hear Marinette’s voice from above deck and Luka’s staring at the steps like he actually is terrified she’ll refuse him. Dingo snickers and gives him a shove.

“Get up there, dumbass!” he hisses, and then Luka’s hand is fisting around the pick and he’s nodding. Dingo follows him up the stairs, slipping behind some crates while Marinette’s back is turned. He settles in to record what he knows will be one of the biggest moments of their lives.

“Hey!” Luka calls, and Marinette’s smile is blinding as she turns to face him. She’d been staring at the setup by the old stage: the instruments pushed back to make way for a picnic, with fairy lights strung from the supports and the Paris sun setting behind them. George is sitting in his old stand by the blanket, waiting for Luka to grab him for an improvised serenade. She jabs her thumb over her shoulder, laughing.

“What’s all this?” she asks, and Luka just smiles as he takes her hands and pulls her towards him, bending to give her a kiss.

“Happy anniversary,” he says. She’s still laughing.

“Happy anniversary,” she answers. “We couldn’t have done this at home?”

“It’s a big one,” he says, tugging her towards the stage. They sit down on the blanket, and he starts to pull their dinner out of the basket. “Five years, darning. I thought…you know…it’d be kind of romantic to come back to where we first met?”

“Then we’d be having this picnic in your old cabin,” she giggles, and he chuckles in reply.

“Too cramped on my bed,” he teases, then winks. “Not that I’d mind, but…the stage works fine. We met at the Music Festival, after all.”

“You scared me, and I started stuttering like an idiot, and you teased me,” she sniffs, and he chuckles before pulling her in for a kiss.

“You were adorable,” he murmurs against her lips. “You stole my heart that day, you know. And you never gave it back.”

“I don’t intend to,” she says softly, kissing him again. From behind the crates, Dingo pulls a face and wishes his mate would just get on with it. “As long as you’ll let me have it.”

Luka smiles and reaches into his pocket, and Marinette’s eyebrows rise a little in curiosity. He pulls the pick out and starts flipping it across his knuckles again.

“I dunno,” he says, looking up at her with a grin. He holds the pick up, the side with Jagged Stone’s face grinning at Marinette. Hiding the message he’d scrawled on the back. “You tend to give things back when I don’t want you to. You sure you’ll hold onto my heart?”

“That doesn’t count, you dork!” she laughs, reaching to snatch the pick back from him.

The pick is practically ancient by this point. It used to be Luka’s favorite, back when he was just a music nerd who loved Jagged Stone a little too much. He had told Marinette he had tons like it, but that particular pick had been a limited edition he’d gotten special with a preorder package for Jagged’s _Rock Giant_ album. And he had given it away to Marinette without a second thought, because she’d liked it and he’d liked her and…she had later turned it into a necklace, and Jagged had crowed when he’d seen it – and told Marinette where exactly the pick was from, and if he’d known she was going to be so creative with it he could’ve gotten her extras, and hey can we do that for the next album? Marinette had been devastated, and she’d tried to force Luka to take it back, except Luka wouldn’t because he loved the necklace, and loved Marinette, and loved Marinette wearing it. She had still been devastated that she’d destroyed, according to her, such a special item, and she’d turned the necklace into a bracelet and gave it back to him on his next birthday. He’d left it in her jewelry box the next time he was over at the bakery, and thus began a constant game of sneaking the pick back to the other.

It used to be his favorite because he was a Jagged Stone fan and it was limited release merch. Only a hundred like it in the world. It’s his favorite now because it’s Marinette’s, and she wears his guitar pick like American high schoolers wear their boyfriend’s class ring. Except when she makes him wear it instead. Ultimately, it’s special to Luka not because it was his favorite pick but because it had technically been his first gift to Marinette, and by this point the stupid thing is worth more in sentimental value than monetary value (which…it technically wasn’t worth much monetarily, not anymore, not since Marinette had poked a hole through the top to turn it into a charm).

And now it’s going to be something more – or…it should have been. Would have been. If Luka hadn’t leaned back as Marinette had reached for it, and if a playful bit of scrabbling hadn’t sent it flying from his hand.

Straight into the Seine.

Before Marinette could even properly see the _marry me?_ scrawled in tiny, metallic silver marker on the back.

And, of course, because it’s _that pick_ , Luka shoves himself up and over the rail and leaps into the river after it. Because it’s Luka. And of fucking course he would.

Marinette’s shriek is drowned out by Dingo’s yelp as he scrambles away from the crates and over to the rail, the camera still raised as he scans the dark water for any sign of his friend.

“Dingo?!” Marinette cries, stumbling back a bit at his sudden appearance. “What are you…?”

“Got it!” Luka shouts as he breaks the surface, the pick raised triumphantly above his head. His expression darkens when he sees Dingo. “Dingo! She wasn’t supposed to see you!”

“Yeah, well, don’t go jumping into the river next time you try and propose!” Dingo calls back. He turns to Marinette, whose eyes have widened and skin has turned several shades paler, and shoves the camera into her hands before reaching for a rope he can toss down to Luka. “Hold this, baby girl. God, you’re an idiot!”

Dingo ignores whatever Luka shouts back at him, certain it’s quite rude, and hauls him over the side of the boat. Luka stands there glaring at him, dripping onto the deck, and Dingo grins as he takes the camera back from Marinette. She still hasn’t moved since he’d shoved it at her.

“Ok, go!” Dingo whisper-shouts at them, waving as he takes a couple steps back. “Pretend I’m not even here!”

“It’s a little late for that, you –” Luka snaps, taking a step towards him, but he stops at Marinette’s hand on his arm. When he looks back at her, she’s smiling so wide he’s certain her face has to be killing her. She squeezes his arm a bit, unintentionally wringing a bit of water from his sleeve.

“Propose?” she asks, and Luka laughs a little – a lot – helplessly as he hands her the pick, the message on the back facing her this time. Her eyes widen in delight, and she throws herself at him – and this time she holds onto the pick, even as her other hand tangles in his soaking hair. “Yes! Yes, you doofus! Yes!”

“Told you so!” Dingo calls, and he cackles as they both flip him off, neither breaking their kiss to do so.


	13. Oct 13: Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo doesn't grow the mohawk because it's cool.
> 
> Dingo grows it because Luka had the balls to be taller than him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Grow  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Abner, the cousin mentioned, is Fen’s. Thanks to Quick & Mal for the idea here bc this prompt had me STUMPED.

When Dingo leaves Paris the first summer after he and Luka met, he’s…scared. A little. And a lot sad. Dingo doesn’t want to go back to Wagga Wagga, convinced they’ll never come back. And he likes Paris. He likes Luka.

…he’s never had a friend before. Not really. Abner doesn’t count because he’s a cousin and no one’s friend.

But Luka just grins at him and gives him a hug, telling him he’ll see him at school next year. Maybe sooner, if they both get back in time. (The Captain’s taking them home to Stornoway to see her parents, too, so it’s not like he even would’ve been around that summer.) Dingo’s not as convinced, but he just smiles and lets Luka ruffle the spiked blonde hair covering his scalp. He tells himself it won’t be the last time he ever sees him, and he almost believes it.

And Wagga Wagga isn’t bad, but it’s not home anymore. Not like Paris is. He has an ok time, but he’s never been close to his family, and even Abner isn’t the company he once was. (Abner has discovered _girls_ , and while Dingo technically has, too, _Brielle_ isn’t _girls_ and he’s not Abner.) Really, the only good thing about the trip back home is the growth spurt he has over the summer, and despite the pain that comes with it he can’t wait to get back and lord his new height over Luka.

Because Dingo has always been awkward angles and jutting elbows, but he’s also _tall_ now. His aunt calls him _lanky_ , but for the first time ever he actually looks…proportionate. And he kinda loves it.

…even if none of his pants fit anymore and he goes back to Paris with too many baggy jeans cut off around his knees.

They both get in a few days before school starts, but between the rush of settling in and preparing for the new year they don’t actually see each other until Dingo slides into Mendeleiev’s homeroom Monday morning. Luka just blinks at him from their desk – until Dingo hauls him out of his seat, spins him so they can stand back-to-back, and tells Brielle to see who’s taller. She tells him to stop being a dumbass and goes back to talking to Charisse, but his point is made. Luka just rolls his eyes before he sits back down.

“I’m not done growing yet,” he says, but Dingo just grins as he plops back in his chair and kicks his booted feet onto the desk.

“I’m taller than you,” he leers, but any other bragging is cut off when Mendeleiev comes in and snaps at him to get his feet off the table.

Dingo gets to enjoy his new height for maybe three months. Luka’s steadily been catching up to him, growing into his own awkward angles and elbows, but it’s the gap over Christmas and New Year’s that gives him that final spurt. He comes in that Monday a few inches taller than Dingo, and Brielle just laughs as she swipes the back of Dingo’s head.

“Serves you right, asshole,” she snickers, but Luka just grins when Dingo pouts at him.

…when all is said and done, and their growing seems to peter out and they settle into their teenage-turning-adult bodies, Luka’s almost a head taller than Dingo, which…isn’t fair. It takes Dingo a few months and a summer (and less begging than he expected, even with his parents), but when they show up for their first day at Sant-Saëns, he’s made up for the missing height.

With a vibrant, lime green mohawk.

That makes him a good two inches taller than Luka. At least.

Luka just blinks at him as Dingo grins behind shiny orange shades, and then Luka’s laughing so hard he doubles over clutching his stomach.

“Ding,” he wheezes, reaching up to clap a hand on his shoulder, “you are _such_ a dumbass.”

( _Dumbass_ isn’t _weirdo_ , and Dingo thinks he doesn’t mind his best mate calling him a dumbass at all.)


	14. Oct 14: Cornered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viperion's been trying to track down the new superhero Ininko Montoya for a while now.
> 
> Ininko's been trying to respect the "secret identities" rule and not get caught.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cornered  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Someday I’m actually gonna finish “Ininko Montoya” & y’all will get to meet Inkki & the Atlantean kwamis properly. xD (Inkki is a blue ring octopus kwami. Ininko Montoya’s getup is blue and gold, basically a sarong with bangles, and he has dark blonde (“golden”) dreadlocks with blue beads woven in. His power is paralyzing ink. I really need to finish that DF. xD)

Bare feet slap against the shingles of the roof. Ininko Montoya takes only a moment to entertain the thought that that _should_ have hurt: his feet weren’t protected by boots like the other heroes. Hell, his _everything_ wasn’t as protected as the other heroes, and yet somehow he never came out of the akuma battles too scratched up.

…only when Inkki was annoyed with him, and even then he usually wasn’t annoyed enough to leave lasting damage. _Usually_.

He hears a shout behind him, snapping him back to the present, and he’s already moving again. He hops off the roof and into an alley, his dreadlocks waving behind him. He has to move. Ladybug had always been adamant about the whole _secret identities_ thing, and even if Inkki never really had anything to say either way on the matter he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate him getting caught so easy.

His ring beeps. The last sucker starts flashing. It looks less like a tentacle and more like a smooth piece of gold by this point.

“Ininko!” Viperion calls from somewhere behind him, and he throws himself inside a dumpster before the snake hero can enter the alley. He squirms into the garbage and tries not to think about what’s touching his skin (the sarong and jewelry cover _nothing_ , and one of the bags is leaking on his bare chest). He hears Viperion’s boots come to a stop somewhere close and wonders if his sense of smell is heightened like Chat Noir’s. He prays the stench from the trash is enough to cover him up if it is.

He isn’t as experienced as the other heroes. They’ve been going since he was fifteen – a good five years now – and he only found Inkki last summer. He’s a few months into this at best and doesn’t have the endurance to outlast his five minute timer. He needs Viperion to move before his transformation drops.

Viperion doesn’t seem inclined to.

“Ladybug?” he hears Viperion call. Ladybug’s voice echoes an affirmative through the alley. “I lost him. Again.”

“Damn it!” Ladybug curses, and Ininko gulps. She sounds _pissed_. “Why won’t he stick around?”

“Well, the first time we met him, he did paralyze Chat,” Viperion says. He chuckles a little. Ininko can’t even feel guilty about that misunderstanding. He didn’t know for sure, but he was pretty confident in his guess on Chat Noir’s identity. Ladybug – and Viperion – should’ve been proud of him. “And he is a bit of a loose cannon. He might not want to join the team.”

“That’s putting it lightly, if your hunch is right,” Ladybug scoffs. “ _Loose cannon_. Tch.”

“…darning,” Viperion laughs, and Ininko tries not to grin. It’s a slip no one else would notice, but Ininko isn’t anyone else, and Viperion just practically gift-wrapped their identities for him. Dumbass. “I’ll meet you back home. Maybe next time.”

“I just want to know more about his Miraculous,” Ladybug sighs. “If he’s on our side or…”

“You know he is,” Viperion says. “Even if he did attack Chat. We’ll talk at home. I love you.”

Ladybug hums in agreement before telling him to hurry up. There’s a click – Viperion’s communicator closing? – and the sound of boots retreating. Ininko lets out an exaggerated groan as his Miraculous gives a final, frantic beep and the flash of his detransformation surrounds him. Dingo flops his head back on a softer trash bag behind him as Inkki lands on his chest. He tries not to think about the bag now leaking into his favorite shirt.

“I fucking knew it,” a painfully familiar voice laughs above him, and Dingo’s eyes snap open to find Viperion grinning down at him. His arms are resting on the lip of the dumpster, a shit-eating grin curling his lips. He reaches in and flicks a gloved finger against his forehead. “Nice job on the dumpster. It was harder to track you with the smell, but did you really think I couldn’t hear your Miraculous beeping?”

…shit. He had completely forgotten about that.

“Um…” Dingo gulps, but Viperion doesn’t seem mad. He holds his hand out. He’s still grinning.

“Come on,” Viperion says. “You reek. Let’s get you out of there.”

“Lu –” Dingo starts, and Viperion’s eyebrows lift in a very familiar expression. Dingo sighs and sinks back into the trash. “Just leave me here. I belong in the dumpster. With the rest of the garbage.”

“Stop being so dramatic, dumbass,” Viperion says with an equally familiar roll of only sorta-familiar eyes. He grabs his hand and hauls him out. Dingo yelps, cupping a hand against his exhausted kwami to hold him to his chest. He overbalances and lands on his ass in a puddle of _something_ leaking from the dumpster. This just wasn’t his fucking day. “I knew it was you. Why did you keep running from us?”

“Ladybug’s always been super strict about the identities,” Dingo sighs. “I just figured…I was trying to follow the rules.”

Viperion snorts at that, and Dingo shoves at him. He doesn’t try that hard, and it’s not that effective. Viperion grabs his arm and pulls him up.

“C’mon,” he sighs. “I’ve got a feeling you already know who I am, so let’s get you home and cleaned up. What does your kwami eat?”

“Coffee,” Inkki chirps, curling a tentacle along the back of Dingo’s neck. Dingo remembers the first time he felt the little guy and how creeped out he’d been. He hardly notices it now. Viperion’s eyebrows soar again, and Dingo reaches into one of his cargo pockets and fishes out a collapsible water bottle filled with cool coffee. He holds it up for Inkki, and Viperion laughs.

It’s been a weird fucking day, but maybe it wasn’t as bad as he was initially thinking.


	15. Oct 15: Myth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo King isn't a man. He's a legend. A fucking myth. A white stag. A...
> 
> ...incredibly lucky son of a bitch who should probably be in jail by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Myth  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: This is 100% Quick’s fault because she showed me THIS video & said “Dingo”. xD https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHiWygziyso&feature=emb_logo (Also, this kinda made me miss the fountain behind DeMoss. And the bubbles. And even the goldfish. God the goldfish were awful. xD)

Luka should have known. From the very beginning, when Dingo first asked, _Luka should have known_.

“It’s our _last week_ ,” Dingo says, tapping his fingers against his knees. “We have to do _something_.”

“We’re actually graduating on time with no hang-ups because of our records,” Luka says. “You really want to jeopardize that?”

“I want to make sure Mlle. Damocles never forgets Dingo King,” Dingo says with a derisive little snort, and Luka actually laughs.

“You really think _anyone_ at this school is going to forget you?” he asks, but Dingo just grins. No, but the point stands. “You’re a living legend by this point.”

Dingo King is leaving Sant-Saëns, and he fully intends to go out with a bang.

It starts innocently enough. A YouTube video that all of Paris would come to regret Dingo finding. The experiment seems easy enough, and initially…there’s a fountain in the courtyard of the school. Initially, when Dingo proposes his plan, it’s small-scale. Just the fountain. Harmless enough, and it’s just _foam._

Luka should have known it wouldn’t stay that way.

Because Dingo doesn’t do things by halves, and Sant-Saëns quickly becomes _Paris_ , and Mlle. Damocles quickly becomes _Mayor Bourgeois_ , and at the end of the day Luka’s suddenly very concerned they’re going to miss their graduation because they’re in jail.

“What,” Luka asks slowly, “is _elephant toothpaste?_ ”

“Well,” Dingo says just as slowly, “simply put…it’s foam.”

“Foam.”

“Foam,” Dingo says, nodding. “Reactive foam. It’s yeast and hydrogen peroxide? And soap. I think it said soap, too. And food coloring – Mari can get that, right? And the yeast?”

“Mari still has three years at this school,” Luka says, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “We’re not dragging her into this. I’m still not sure we’re dragging _me_ into this.”

“We’re dragging you into this,” Dingo says dismissively, as if it was ever even up for debate (Luka’s adamant it still is), “and Mari’s a big girl. She can help if she wants.”

“You’re not making my girlfriend your accomplice,” Luka warns. “She’s _my_ accomplice. She’s not bailing your ass out of jail.”

“We’re a package deal,” Dingo reminds him. He waves him off and hits play on the video he’d pulled up on his phone. “Anyway, it’s just foam. Harmless. People swim in it – see? It’ll be great. We can add the peroxide and soap to the fountain. And the dye. Then we can drop balloons with the yeast in it in and –”

“Can’t you just add the soap like the class two years back?” Luka sighs, and Dingo’s scoffing again.

“But that’s so _pedestrian_ ,” he says, sounding more like Brielle than Luka’s necessarily comfortable with. “Soap is boring. But elephant’s toothpaste? Now we’re cooking.”

That’s honestly what Luka’s afraid of: getting _cooked_.

(He even goes so far as suggesting goldfish, though that particular stunt had almost gotten the fountain removed entirely. Mlle. Damocles had the thing shut off for almost the entire year after the custodians had spent the better part of three weeks clearing little tattered fish bodies out of the courtyard.)

But he hesitantly agrees, except the next thing he knows Dingo’s found a video not about _elephant toothpaste_ but _devil’s toothpaste_ , and even though the maker’s lawyer had redacted the recipe Dingo is determined. And Luka tries to back out – he honestly does, because he wants to graduate and not spend the summer in jail when he’s looking forward to lazy sunny snuggles with his new-ish girlfriend – but Dingo…Dingo can’t be trusted on his own. And Luka will never hang him out to dry, even though it might actually be good for him.

He’s too noble – too _loyal_ – for that. (Juleka will always say _stupid._ )

Luka’s still not sure how Dingo figured out the recipe. He’s still not sure how Dingo pulled it off. But the next thing he knows, Dingo is pressing a button, and the portion of the Seine surrounding the Liberty is _exploding_ and _burning_ and _oh, that’s why Dingo had forced him into the hazmat suit…_

When Officer Roger rolls up to find the two boys standing in the middle of the multicolored, smoking foam – and the _middle_ being a twelve-block radius stretching along either side of the boat – he doesn’t quite know what to do. Dingo is cackling, prancing about the deck and tossing clouds of steaming foam everywhere. Luka just heaves a heavy, dramatic sigh and walks up to Officer Roger, his hands raised and ready to be cuffed.

“Can I at least make graduation first?” Luka asks, but for once Officer Roger is left speechless. He doesn’t even want to think about the cleanup on this mess, what _this mess_ actually is, what it’s doing to the city’s water, and _oh God the **paperwork** …_

And that’s probably the only thing that saves them. Charges aren’t actually pressed because Roger doesn’t know _what_ to press (all the charges, every charge, there has to be _something –_ really he should just throw the entire fucking book at these dumbass kids), and Luka and Dingo somehow actually get all the foam – _Devil’s Toothpaste_ , where the hell do these kids come up with this shit? – cleared away. It doesn’t help that Ladybug and Pegasus show up, and there’s a handy Lucky Charm and portal that send most of the foam into the sun, so Officer Roger still doesn’t quite know how to file this latest report.

Luka makes his graduation.

But he’s also labeled as a _Public Menace_ for a good while after.

As for Dingo, he bypasses _Living Legend_ entirely and goes straight into _Myth_.

(It will bite him in the ass one day. Eventually. Luka hopes.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This song has NOTHING to do with the fic but Quick's got me on an Ataris kick for another WIP & man I was just jamming while sprinting this one...
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00ubqFkyGYA


	16. Oct 16: Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo doesn't do rings, until he does. One ring, at least. It's not like Inkki gave him much of a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hand  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Inkki (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: A few years back, my bestie found this tentacle ring on Amazon or Etsy or somewhere that’s just really freakin cool, ok? Anyway that’s Dingo’s Miraculous, and the suckers on the tentacle count as the timer.

Dingo doesn’t like rings. He’s not really a ring person, not like Luka.

Luka had only had the one, back when they first met. It was actually a hematite spinner ring that the Captain had gotten him when he had started exhibiting signs of _anxiety_ , or at least that’s what Luka’s doctor had called it. His case had been relatively mild, though, especially compared to Juleka. The Captain got him the ring, and he took up meditation, and for the most part he was good.

He still had his moments, like when pompous no-talent hacks try to steal his not-girlfriend’s hard work, but he’s good. Dingo doesn’t think _anxiety_ when he thinks Luka, not like he does Jules. He thinks _zen_.

Other rings join it over time. Like the dark silver one that was spotted with cherry blossoms that he wears on his thumb. (He finds it at the street fair he takes Marinette to on their first date, and it reminds him of her, and he never takes it off again.) The three small ones that stack on his pinky and are held together by an anchor and rope (Couffaines: the Captain anchoring her kids). That one he picks up in Barcelona that lights up and is honestly an eyesore. (…there’s no deeper meaning to that one. Luka just thinks it’s cool.)

(Eventually, much later, there’s a new ring that takes precedence over them all: the looping band he wears on his left ring finger, twisted from the strings of the guitar he’d first played Marinette’s song on. He’d saved the strings, from sentimentality and superstition, and she’ll use them to craft their wedding rings. But that’s the future.)

But Dingo? Dingo doesn’t do rings. They’re clunky and bulky and honestly he doesn’t know how Luka, who plays guitar and needs the mobility more than Dingo who just beats on drums does, can wear them. He thinks it’s because Luka’s always music, and the clinking of the metal is just another way to compose on the fly. Like Dolly Parton and her nails. Still. Dingo doesn’t do rings.

Until he does.

You don’t really get to choose what your Miraculous looks like, after all. When he found Inkki on that beach, clinging to his Miracle Box and screaming at Dingo to _stay away, I mean it_ , he just saw a kwami and knew it needed help. He hadn’t really expected to become Inkki’s bearer, and he definitely hadn’t expected to become a _Guardian_. He’s shit at guarding anything. Still, when the little kwami held up the shiny gold ring, it’s not like Dingo could say _no_.

That had been almost five months ago, Dingo thinks as his thumb traces over the dark silver tentacle curling around his finger. It looks so innocuous in its inert form – just like Luka’s Miraculous just looks like a silver bangle. Or Marinette’s could almost be mistaken for Luka’s earrings. He supposes that’s the point, in the end. To stay hidden. Out of sight and out of mind.

It’s something when he’s transformed, though. The base turns a pretty gold that glints in the sun, and the suckers become little sapphires. The Atlanteans definitely had something for style over their Parisian counterparts. He has to give them that.

“You ready?”

He jumps at Luka’s voice, and he laughs a little maniacally as he catches the helmet his mate tosses him. Luka’s eyes linger on the new ring – because Luka knows it’s weird, too, but Luka hasn’t dogged on to him yet, at least not that he knows of – but he says nothing as he puts his own helmet on. Dingo had told him it was a souvenir, when he got home. Something he had found in a little seaside shop that made him think of home. He’s still not entirely sure Luka believes him, especially after an octopus-themed superhero showed up two nights later.

It’s just coincidence. And Luka hasn’t asked. So Dingo hasn’t said.

Ladybug had always been big on secret identities, anyway. He figures the least he can do is respect that.

“So what’s Jagged want, anyway?” Dingo asks as they walk out the door to their building. Luka opens his mouth to answer, but there’s an explosion and a scream a short distance away, and they both look up to see smoke rising behind the buildings across from them. Luka’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening on his helmet. He knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“Get back inside,” Luka orders, shoving his helmet at him. Dingo tries not to roll his eyes.

“Where are you going?!” he calls. Luka’s already running down the street – _towards_ the blast.

“To make sure Mari’s ok!” he shouts back, but then he’s ducking into an alley and disappearing. Inkki peeks out from Dingo’s collar.

“He’s a terrible liar,” the little octopus says, and Dingo snickers as he floats up by his head. Marinette’s been able to protect herself for _years_ , but this new Hawkmoth is stronger than Gabriel Agreste ever was. Luka’s been more tense with every new akuma – he’s had to replace his spinner ring twice already. Neither mention the nightmares that wake him up screaming at least once a week, if he’s lucky. “Should we join him?”

“Almost seems wrong to let him have all the fun,” Dingo quips. He glances at Inkki and grins. “Besides, I’m not a very good Octopus if I don’t _Dive Deep!_ ”

A flash of golden light erupts from his new ring, and a moment later Ininko Montoya is running towards the explosions.


	17. Oct 17: Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo gets caught in the rain on his way to the Liberty. So does Marinette.
> 
> The theme is vaguely gestured at via umbrellas and boats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Shelter  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Luka Couffaine; Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Idek with this one, but I like the closing bit so I guess I’m keeping it.

It’s been a…well. Not a _horrible_ day, not really, but it’s definitely been dreary. The sky has been overcast since the night before, the winds bringing with them the scent of rain and the promise of a soaking storm. Dingo barely listens to the news anymore – Nadja Chamack isn’t the most reliable journalist, and he doesn’t really trust meteorologists – and he doesn’t usually pay much attention to the skies.

It usually doesn’t bite him quite as hard in the ass, though.

He should have grabbed his umbrella that morning, but it had just been overcast. It had _been_ overcast for a while. He honestly hadn’t thought it would actually rain. He should have known better. He’s been stuck under an awning for a good twenty minutes waiting out the storm.

He’s freezing. He’s wet. He’s miserable.

“Dingo?”

…he might just be saved.

He looks up at the voice to find Marinette standing on the sidewalk before him, a pink-with-white-polka-dotted umbrella over her head. She’s smiling a bit helplessly at him.

“What are you doing out here?” she asks, and he shrugs.

“Was going to see Luka,” he says. “Got caught in the rain.”

He grins a little wider at the pretty blush that colors her cheeks.

“What a coincidence,” she tuts, “so was I. Care to join me? My umbrella’s big enough for two.”

He darts out from under the awning, scooping her up and twirling her in a tight hug. She squeals and almost loses hold of her umbrella, and if his soaked clothes didn’t get her wet the loss of her personal shelter definitely did.

“Dingo!” she cries, but he’s laughing as he puts her down.

“Thanks, baby girl,” he says. “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes for this to let up.”

“It’s not supposed to until tomorrow morning,” she says. She groans a little as she pulls her shirt away from her stomach, and he tries not to smirk. Luka owes him big for getting her white shirt wet. “Ugh, Dingo! I’m soaked now!”

“Lu’s got something you can change into, I’m sure,” he says off-handedly. “I’m definitely borrowing something. C’mon – the boat’s still a good ten minutes away.”

When they finally made it to the boat, though, no one was actually home. Marinette seems disappointed, but she’s willing to walk Dingo back home – until he hops the gate and strolls across the gangway like he owns the place. She thinks he probably thinks he does. He opens the latch behind him, and she scrambles after him, following him below deck. She only feels a little guilty, but she really wants to get out of the rain, and the Liberty has practically become a second home anyway…

“He’s at work,” Dingo tells her when she joins him in Luka’s cabin, tossing her some pants and a shirt from under the bed. “Shit. They actually made him work in this?”

“…he’s going to get sick!” Marinette says, and Dingo nods as he shoots Luka another text. Marinette pulls the partition and goes to Juleka’s side of the room to change.

“Ah. Ok. So he’s cutting his shift off early because of the weather. He’ll make it up later in the week,” Dingo calls. “He’s on his way back now, if you want to wait for him?”

“I would just head back home,” she snorts, “but now I have to dry my clothes, so I guess I’m stuck here with you, huh?”

“I’ll make cocoa!” Dingo cries, and Marinette rolls her eyes. It’s better than walking home in the rain, and Luka is on his way back…

When Luka walks through the door about fifteen minutes later, Marinette and Dingo are both wearing his clothes and huddled under a blanket on the couch, mugs of cocoa in their hands as they watch a movie. He frowns as he sees them, but the frown disappears when Marinette smiles at him.

“…I’d give you a hug, but you’re soaked, and I’ve already changed once,” she teases. She nods to his cabin. “Go change and get back here. You’re a better cuddle buddy than Dingo.”

“Oi!” Dingo whines. “I’m a _great_ cuddle bud!”

“Nope,” Marinette says, popping the _p_. She sips her cocoa and winks at Luka. “You’re all boney angles. Besides, I came here for _Luka_ snuggles. It’s just my luck I’m picking up his bad habit of bringing home rabid strays instead.”

Dingo pretends to be insulted, but Luka just laughs and follows her orders. A few minutes later he’s in old sweats and huddled between them, Marinette curled against his side as Dingo uses his shoulder as a pillow (which would have been a problem if his own head wasn’t resting against Marinette’s). Outside, the storm rages on, but within the shelter of the Liberty they are safe and happy and warm.


	18. Oct 18: Vintage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka should have known better than to take Dingo with him to the vintage shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Vintage  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: K Plus / PG / Most Ages  
> Notes: I actually have a Dingo avatar in Animal Crossing, and a while back I showed up on Mal’s island with these bug-eyed 70s sunglasses in lime green and she was like “WHAT THE HELL IS ON YOUR FACE?!” That’s the only excuse I have here. xD

Luka has no words.

None.

At all.

“What…” he finally croaks, blinking slowly, “…the hell…are you wearing?”

Ok, maybe he has _some_ words.

Dingo just grins and gives a little spin. The brown suede vest he’s found flies out around him in a swirl of fringe, and Luka has to blink again. For once Dingo’s arms are covered, though the pastel-colored, paisley-print, high-collared dress shirt isn’t really an improvement over his normal ratty tees with the sleeves torn off. He’s even wearing puke green (and Luka really can’t be nicer than that, because Marinette might use terms like _olive_ or _chartreuse_ or even _pistachio_ , but Luka just sees baby vomit) bell bottoms that flare out around his clunky boots. The boots are the only thing Dingo’s kept that are actually his – even his sunglasses of the day have been swapped out for these bottle-framed, bug-eyed, neon monstrosities that match the lime of his hair. All he needs is a peace sign medallion and to turn his mohawk into an afro and Luka would feel confident sending him back to the ‘70s.

…his power only lets them go back five minutes at a time. He wonders if there’s a Miraculous that could take you back farther. He’s never seen it in use, if there is.

“Come off it,” Dingo crows, shimmying a little. “I look amazing!”

“You look like a Woodstock reject,” Luka deadpans. Or like he’s auditioning for the school’s production of _HAIR._ Luka snorts and shifts the box he’s carrying to his hip, reaching out to pluck the hippy shades off Dingo’s face. Dingo’s still grinning as he turns them around. “Oh my God. These are _awful_. You have to get them.”

“I know, right?” Dingo snickers. Luka nods to the rest of the outfit.

“Not that, though,” he says. Dingo’s pierced eyebrow lifts a little higher than the other. “I will not be held responsible for what Mari will do to you if you show up at school wearing that.”

“Please,” Dingo scoffs, snatching his new shades back and dropping them on his nose. “She could take a few pointers from me.”

Luka doesn’t point out how long Marinette’s been asking him if he thought Dingo would let her give him a makeover. Or how she maybe already has three new shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a vest done up for his birthday.

“We’re not here for you to…please tell me you’re not honestly considering buying that,” Luka sighs. Dingo frowns as he looks down at himself.

“Well, yeah,” he says. “Mate, it’s only like fifteen euro for the lot.”

“Just because something’s cheap doesn’t mean you have to buy it,” Luka groans. “Come on. Go change. I have to find someone working here to take this crap.”

_This crap_ being the box of old odds and ends Anarka had sent them to the vintage shop to get rid of. A girl had greeted them from behind the counter as soon as they’d walked in, but then Dingo had seen the sunglasses and had bolted into the shop with a squeal. Luka had spent the past ten minutes trying to reign him in, and now the girl had disappeared from the counter and he can’t find her.

Dingo just grabs his shoulders and spins him towards the back wall, almost making him lose hold of the box. Luka hesitates as his eyes land on what is quite possibly the most beautiful electric guitar he’s ever seen.

Even more beautiful than Claire, and he’s _very_ loyal to Claire.

“You sure, mate?” Dingo croons in his ear. Luka bites his lip, trying to ignore him when he gestures at the price sticker. “It’s a _steal_.”

It really is, and it’s not like he can’t afford it. Even if it was twice the price, he’d more than be able to afford it. And what was she even doing in a place like this? A beauty like that, it had to be a she. His fingers twitch around the box, eager to take her from the wall and tune her. Pick out a song, maybe one he could sing to Marinette when he shows up with a new guitar he really doesn’t need…

No.

No, no, no.

He’s good.

He’s got Claire.

And George.

He’s good.

…no matter how pretty the seductress on the back wall is.

“…just because something’s cheap doesn’t mean you have to buy it,” Luka says again, though he doesn’t sound as convinced that time. Dingo picks the box from his arms and nudges him forward, patting his shoulder almost sympathetically. “Ding, _no_.”

“Just give her a looksee,” Dingo cajoles, and then he’s whistling as he turns his back and walks over to the counter. “Hell, I’ll even pay for it! Shop girl, ring me up!”

A quick glance over his shoulder shows the shop girl has appeared again, looking less than amused at Dingo’s easy smile and wardrobe change. His fingers twitch again, and he huffs out a little sigh before making his way to the back wall.

It won’t hurt anyone if he just _looks_ , right?


	19. Oct 19: Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka says Marinette tastes like berries. Dingo wants to find out for himself.
> 
> (...he thinks he prefers cinnamon, anyway.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fruit  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Lukanette.  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: This ties into my fic “Of Punky Bois & Punky Colors”, where Luka and Mari get together over hair dye. One of the things in that fic is Marinette starts using berry-flavored lip gloss bc Luka/’s hair dye smells like berries, so there’s kinda this running gag of berry-flavored kisses. (Also Quick totally came up with the Officer Roger line, and I stole it like the dirty pirate I am. xD)

Dingo’s grin is stretching so wide it hurts, but he can’t really help it. Marinette had shown up to school that morning with _Luka_. And _pink hair_. And they were _holding hands_.

…and when Juleka and Rose went to tug her away so they weren’t late to their first class, _they had kissed goodbye._

Granted, Dingo had been texting Luka for the better part of the weekend and had known all of this, but it was one thing to _know_ and another to actually _see_.

And now they’re at lunch, and Marinette is sitting on Luka’s lap, and they’re being absolutely _disgusting_ , and he fucking loves it. Luka’s arms are looped around her waist, and one of her arms is resting on his shoulders so she can reach up and toy with his hair. Her other hand is drawing lazy patterns on his arm, and they’re giving each other absolutely besotted looks. It’s so gross. Even worse, every now and then she dips down or he leans up and they get lost in a slow, lazy kiss. It’s absolutely disgusting. Juleka had already grabbed Rose’s arm and dragged her off to the courtyard to eat lunch, and Brielle’s been willfully ignoring the new couple since Marinette first plopped down on his lap. Dingo, though, is enjoying every minute of the show.

Not that they’ve actually noticed. They’re lost in their own little world, just as they should be.

“You two are going to starve the rest of the day if you don’t actually eat something,” Brielle finally points out, glancing up from her phone to find their lunches are still untouched. “Luka, you’re a growing boy. You gotta eat up.”

“He is,” Dingo snickers, and Marinette squeaks before hiding her burning face in Luka’s hoodie. “He’s been eating her up since we got here.”

“Fuck you, Ding,” Luka says, and Dingo just snickers again. Marinette’s hand has moved from his arm to his neck, and he takes a breath before ducking his face against her shoulder. He whispers something to her, just low enough that Dingo and Brielle can’t hear, but it makes Marinette giggle and snuggle closer. She glances up at him, and he draws her into another slow kiss. He’s grinning stupid when she rests her head back on his shoulder. “You still taste like berries.”

“…she does?” Dingo asks, and Marinette rolls her eyes at him.

“It’s my lip gloss,” she says. She kisses Luka’s jaw before standing, and Luka actually whines a little when she makes him let go. She giggles and ruffles his hair. “I’ll be back. I just want to see if they have any more of those pastries.”

“Hurry back,” Luka says, still smiling stupid, and Marinette squeezes his hand before turning to go.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dingo calls, grabbing at her wrist. He grins at her, and she suddenly looks wary. “You really taste like berries?”

“…Dingo, if you try and kiss her I will punch you in the face,” Luka says, but Dingo’s curiosity has been piqued. His grin turns dangerous, and he winks at Marinette.

“Ok,” he says, and before either of them can react he’s grabbing Luka’s face and pulling him close, smacking a sloppy, exaggerated kiss against his lips. Luka immediately shoves him away, but not before Dingo can swipe his tongue along Luka’s lower lip. Dingo’s cackling as Luka pushes him hard enough to send him to the floor, and then Luka’s kicking him for good measure. (Marinette does, too, because it’s not fair that Luka’s the only one who gets to kick him.)

“Asshole,” Luka spits, rubbing his arm across his mouth. Marinette tips his head back and kisses him, and Dingo cackles all the harder as he crawls back into his chair – only for Brielle to shove him back to the floor with a muttered _dumbass_.

“Well, you wouldn’t let me kiss her,” he says when he’s back in his chair and Marinette’s stopped kissing Luka again. She punches his shoulder, and he’s grateful it only hurts a little. He probably deserves worse.

“ _She_ wouldn’t let you kiss her, either,” she mutters. She looks back at Luka and smiles. “I’ll be right back.”

“What the hell, Ding?” Luka asks once she’s gone. Dingo’s still giggling.

“I wanted to know what her lip gloss tasted like,” he says with a shrug, “and you wouldn’t let me kiss Mari, so I had to get it second-hand.”

“You wanted to cause shit,” Brielle says, smacking the back of his head – on the bit of shaved head beside the mohawk so she knew it would hurt. He grins at her. “You’re not supposed to be kissing _him_ , dumbass.”

“Oh, I know,” he says, and then Bri’s squawking against his mouth as he steals a kiss from her, too. “Besides, I prefer cinnamon. You taste better than he does.”

“…Lu, do you think Officer Roger would just laugh in my face if I tried to have him arrested for assault?” Brielle deadpans, but neither boy misses the blush dusting her cheeks. Marinette doesn’t miss it either when she returns with a pastry in her hand, her eyebrows lifting in curiosity. She returns to her seat on Luka’s lap, and Dingo can’t help but notice how natural they are around each other. He grins at Luka, but his mate is still scowling at him.

“Me? Definitely,” he grumbles. He smiles a little when Marinette offers the pastry to him, and it’s a few beats as he chews and swallows before he continues. “But you? He might actually take you seriously.”

Dingo goes to argue that point, but Brielle is slapping the back of his head again.

“Just shut up before you dig a deeper grave,” she mutters. He looks back to Luka, but he’s back in his little Marinette World, so he scoots his chair closer to Brielle. With the lovebirds distracted, he leans in and whispers.

“…your lip gloss does taste better, though.”

Her face burns warmer, but he still catches the smile before her hand can fully cover it.


	20. Oct 20: Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bri's been acting weird. It's kinda freaking Dingo out.
> 
> Luka would be much more sympathetic if his little ball of chaos would just put her damn pants on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Glow  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Harmony Couffaine (OC), Brielle Girard (OC); Bringo, Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: I had the idea of Bri telling Dingo she was pregnant (“baby glow”), but then Toddler Harmony kinda just took over. Oops. xD (I usually play Harmony as more mellow & Melody as the little ball of Chaos, but I’m thinking Harmony was pretty chaotic as a kid and mellowed out as she grew up (and had to Big Sister to four other Couffaines). HEY THIS WAS A DINGO CHALLENGE WHAT’S THE HOUSE BAND DOING HERE?!

“…Bri’s acting _weird_ ,” Dingo whispers into his phone. There’s an amused sound on the other end, one that neither agrees nor disagrees with him.

“What did you do this time?” Luka asks. There’s a giggle, followed by a muffled curse. “No, no, no – Harm, we need pants today! Maman’s taking you to see Ma S, remember? Pants!”

Dingo smiles a little as he hears Harmony’s toddler voice scream a very vocal _NO_ at her papa, but the smile disappears when he hears movement beyond the bedroom. He leans back against the door and gulps.

“I did _nothing_ ,” he pouts. “Why d’you always assume I did something?”

“…are you seriously going to make me answer that? _Pants_ , Harmonika,” Luka tuts. There’s a shuffling, and Harmony sounds a lot closer than she had a moment ago. There’s a squeal and a cry of _no no no no!_ “Ding, I mean it. What did you do? Bri was on the phone with Mari almost an hour last night. She won’t tell me anything.”

“See?!” Dingo hisses. “ _Weird!_ I’m scared to go out there, Lu.”

“…man up, dumb…dumb,” Luka says, barely catching the near-slip in time. Harmony giggles louder, and Dingo grins. Marinette had ripped Luka a new one the time he came over and Harmony had crashed into his legs with a cry of _Uncle Dumbass!_ “Just go talk to her.”

“She’s been _singing_ ,” Dingo says. “And _giggling_. She hasn’t smiled this much since…shit, since she won that award for the short film about cheese.”

“…that film was so fucking weird,” Luka groans, and then lets out a _shit_ as Harmony gasps. “…you can’t say that. Don’t tell Maman.”

“Papa said –” Harmony starts, but then she’s giggling again, and Dingo imagines Luka’s started tickling her.

“Papa said you’re the prettiest Harmony in the house,” Luka coos, using that voice that’s not quite _Baby Voice_ but is reserved just for his little girl. “You don’t want Papa in trouble, do you?”

“Yes,” Harmony giggles, and Luka groans.

“I’d offer you shelter when Mari kicks you out, but Bri’s…holy shit,” Dingo blinks, his eyes widening. Luka hums, and Dingo groans. “Mate, she’s fucking _nesting_. You don’t think…but she can’t be…we’re not…we weren’t even…I mean _I wasn’t even_ …”

“Words, Ding,” Luka says. “Full sentences. I’m running on maybe three hours of sleep here.”

“…she can’t be pregnant,” Dingo gulps. “Luka, I am _not_ father material. She can’t be...she…oh my God, I got her pregnant!”

“Pause on the freak-out,” Luka says. There’s a bit more shuffling and an exaggerated smacking noise. “Ok, you’re good. And remember: _don’t tell Maman_ –”

“Uncle Dumbass is a fucking idiot?” Harmony’s voice comes through the phone, clear as a bell, and it’s almost enough to snap Dingo out of his spiral. He loves that little hurricane. Maybe a kid won’t be so bad, if it turns out half as cool as Harmony.

“…Harm, you’re killing me,” Luka groans, but Harmony just giggles again. “Go find your Maman.”

“Maaaaaaamaaaaaaaan!” Harmony cries, and Dingo can hear her running away. Luka groans again, and there’s a flopping.

“…did you at least get her pants on her?” Dingo snickers, and he imagines Luka’s flipping him off.

“She is dressed and presentable,” Luka grumbles. “Her clothes even fit and match, so Mari won’t skin me for _that_ , at least.”

“Just teaching your daughter to say _fuck_ ,” Dingo says with a grin. The knob behind him jiggles, and he snaps his jaw together as Brielle knocks.

“Perry? Why did you lock the door?” she calls, and Dingo gulps.

“…I heard,” Luka says. “Talk to her. The sooner you do, the better it will be.”

“She’s going to divorce me,” Dingo says. “She doesn’t want kids.”

“Yes, she does,” Luka says. “One kid, at least. She’s kinda nuts about Harmony.”

“She wants _your_ kid,” Dingo snaps, and Luka makes a choking noise.

“She can’t have her,” he says, sounding a little smug. “I love my kid.”

“Everyone loves your kid,” Dingo mutters. “Harmony is _awesome_.”

“Of course she is,” Luka says. “She’s a Couffaine.”

“Dingo! Open the Goddamned door!” Bri shouts from the other side, knocking a bit harder. “I can hear you on the phone, dumbass! Luka, hang up!”

“That’s my cue,” Luka laughs, and Dingo yelps when the door is pushed open and he’s sent to the ground. Brielle is standing on the other side, a hand on her hip and the key to the room in the other. One eyebrow is arched imperiously over the other, and Dingo tries to smile sweetly at his beautiful, pissed off, possibly hormonal (because it implies but definitely doesn’t mean pregnant when it could just mean period) wife. “Good luck, dumbass.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Dingo says a bit too cheerfully. Luka just laughs and hangs up on him, and Dingo chucks his phone behind him before crossing his legs and grabbing his ankles. He wishes he had his shades so Bri couldn’t see the massive panic in his eyes. “Hey, beautiful. What’s up?”

Brielle’s annoyance seems to disappear at his question, replaced by that soft look she’s been wearing for the better part of the week. She sits in front of him, close enough that her feet can touch his but still away enough that she’s comfortable. Safe. She tucks some hair behind her ear and looks away, still smiling.

“We…we need to talk,” she says, and Dingo doesn’t know if he’s scared or not. Her hand subconsciously goes to her very flat stomach, and Dingo realizes it’s not really fear. Well, not _just_ fear.

There’s a lot of fear.

But he’s also kind of really excited.

“…holy shit,” he breathes, reaching out to lay his hand over hers. He looks up at her, still uncertain, but she’s smiling.

And he can’t help but smile, too.


	21. Oct 21: Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo and Marinette play a harmless little prank on Luka while he takes a nap.
> 
> (Or: the one inspired by Jigglypuff.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Laugh  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Heheheheheheh… (This has been a WEEK, guys. Ugh every week this year has been a WEEK for Reasons, but I’m sure everyone’s feeling that. All to say I’mma be behind a day, but I’m hoping to catch up this weekend.)

Dingo snickers, and Marinette jabs an elbow into his side to get him to shut up. He jerks his hand back and gives her a half-hearted glare.

“Shhhh,” she hushes, then winces when Luka makes a noise and shifts in his sleep. She glances up at him before smoothing his bangs off his forehead. Dingo wants to argue that her kissing his forehead is more likely to wake him up than his snickering, but her elbows are jabby and he really doesn’t want her hitting him again. “You’ll wake him.”

“I’ve got this,” Dingo says dismissively, waving her off. When Luka settles again, a dopey little smile on his face, Dingo lowers the marker back to his skin. He pauses and glances at Marinette, a devilish little smirk curling his lips. “Unless…”

“Unless?” she prods, and he wags the marker at her

“You wanna?” he asks, and his voice is positively sinful. Marinette imagines he’s the serpent instead of the octopus, and they’re not in her living room but in a garden near the dawn of time. She swallows and looks back at her sleeping boyfriend, her lips twitching with a smile. “Come on, baby girl. _You know you wanna._ ”

“…just because I’m letting you draw on his face doesn’t mean I condone it,” she says, trying to sound indignant, but Dingo just grins at her and eventually she has to smile back. She even giggles a little.

Luka already has a monocle drawn around one eye and half a curly mustache stretching onto his cheek. His hair is still sticking up, leaving his forehead a blank canvas for…whatever she wanted, really. He was going to be so mad when he woke up, but the marker was washable and the siren call of a good prank was just too tempting.

…Dingo really is a _horrible_ influence. (She’d argue Luka is, too, but she likes his influence more. Plus he’s a _much_ better kisser.)

“Give in, Mari,” Dingo whispers by her ear, and she rolls her eyes as she swats at him. “Be the Boat Kid we all know you are.”

She shoves him away and turns back to Luka. Miraculously, he’s still asleep. She smiles and lowers the marker to his skin. Her flowers are scrawling across his forehead and down his cheek within moments, turning the mustache into a sweep of vines. Dingo pouts a little at that, but he doesn’t voice his displeasure when Luka’s face twitches and he shifts. Marinette quickly pulls the marker back, but Dingo snatches it from her as Luka settles onto his back.

“ _Dingo_ ,” Marinette hisses when he writes _PROPERTY OF MDC_ next to her flowers.

“What?” Dingo asks. “You always sign your work. How else is he gonna believe it was you?”

Luka makes another noise, shifts again, and Marinette rolls her eyes before pressing a kiss to his clear cheek.

They leave Luka to his nap, giggling as they go to fetch their takeaway order.

– V –

Luka feels amazing when he wakes up from his nap, though that’s probably because his head is resting on Marinette’s lap as she eats her noodles and watches an old episode of that design show she likes. She grins down at him when she feels him moving, and he sighs happily as her hand brushes through his bangs.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he hums, and snickering to their side makes him frown. He pops an eye open to find Dingo stretched across the armchair by the couch, his booted feet tapping to the runway music. He wiggles his fingers at him and blows him a kiss. “Hey, Ding. How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours,” Marinette says. She catches his hand and brings it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “You’ve been so tired this week. I wanted you to rest, and Dingo could wait.”

“Rude, but true,” Dingo says, tossing a fried bit of chicken in his mouth. “You’ve slept like shit this week.”

“Lots of deadlines,” Luka mutters. His face scrunches in a yawn, and Marinette giggles. Her hand traces a pattern above his eye, and he sighs as he relaxes against her. “I have to pee, but I’m too comfortable to move.”

“Go on,” Marinette says, and he groans as she leans over him to set her dinner on the coffee table. She nudges him up with her knees when she leans back, and part of him just wants to pull her close and snuggle. He really doesn’t want to get up yet, but his bladder’s pretty pissed at him. Marinette giggles and kisses his cheek. “Luka. I’ll still be here when you get back. I even have dinner for you.”

“Drunken noodles?” he asks, and she grins before shooing him towards the hall. “You’re the best, darning.”

“I know,” she giggles, and he tries to ignore Dingo’s added snickering as he goes to the bathroom. He pauses inside the room when something in the mirror above the sink catches his eye. Something dark and weird and…he forgets all about his need to pee when he sees the doodles littering his face in thick black lines.

“Oh, you assholes!” he calls, and the living room erupts in laughter. He tries not to smile as he turns the water on and grabs a washcloth. If it’s one of the fancy ones Marinette made with fabric that was too expensive for a bathroom hand towel, he maybe feels a little justified using it to wash the marker off.

(She’s got at least twenty more in the hall closet, anyway.)


	22. Oct 22: Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo worries that he'll end up alone.
> 
> Luka worries that he's not going to get any sleep that night if his dumbass friend doesn't shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Alone  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine; sorta BG Bringo  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: I’m desperately trying to catch up on these but I’m definitely behind. *screaming uselessly into the Void* Also fun random fact: my Word of the Day e-mail today was “lulu”, which apparently means “an outstanding example of a particular type of person or thing.” I just thought that was really funny.

“Hey, Lulu?” Dingo asks, breaking the stillness of the Liberty’s upper deck. It’s never that quiet aboard the colorful ship, but it has been tonight, and the two fourteen-year-olds had been enjoying the calm.

“Don’t call me that,” Luka grumbles, his voice just groggy enough to make Dingo think he might’ve been sleeping. Or almost asleep. Or…

“Juleka said it first,” Dingo wheedles, and Luka snorts.

“That’s Jules,” he says. “She had trouble pronouncing _K_ s for a while there.”

“Shut up,” Dingo laughs, reaching above his head to swat at Luka. Luka punches him back a little harder, and he snickers. “I’m trying to be _serious_ here.”

“You’re never serious,” Luka says, “and I’m tired. Today _sucked_.”

“Today wasn’t so bad,” Dingo says. He rolls onto his stomach and props his head on his folded arms, grinning at his mate. “Coulda been worse.”

“Shut up,” Luka groans. He kicks at something by his feet, and there’s a _splash_ as whatever it is goes overboard. Dingo assumes it was nothing too important, given the general nature of chaotic…not _garbage_ but yeah sometimes garbage that litters the deck. He peeks by Luka’s feet to see an overturned crate of basketballs in varying shades. If they’re lucky that’s all that went into the river. “I’m too tired.”

“But Lu,” Dingo presses, and though Luka groans again he doesn’t reprimand him this time. Dingo figures he prefers that to _Lulu_. “It’s just…do you think…”

He pauses, unsure how to say what he wants to say. How to ask if Luka thinks Brielle will ever go out with him without sounding like…

“I’m trying not to,” Luka says. “I’m trying to sleep.”

It’s late. It’s been a long day. Luka has a point: he should just drop it and try to sleep.

“Bri’s really pretty, right?” Dingo finally asks, and he can see Luka frowning even before he looks at him. His head tips back over the lounger he’s sprawled upside-down in, and Dingo looks away. Hunches his shoulders a bit up by his ears, wishes it wasn’t so dark out and he hadn’t left his shades in Luka’s cabin.

“I guess?” Luka hazards. He shrugs a little. “I’ve never really paid attention.”

…which is _stupid_ , because Brielle is gorgeous and how could he _not?_

As if sensing his thoughts, Luka continues, “She’s just Bri. We’ve been friends forever. She’s very pretty, but I don’t want to date her. It’s just like I think Jules is beautiful, but I’m not going to date my sister.”

Dingo squirms a little, picking at the sleeve of the t-shirt he’d borrowed when his own clothes had been tossed in the wash. After Brielle had dumped her iced chai on him and…

It had been a _really_ long day.

“Sometimes I think I’m gonna end up alone,” Dingo finally says. Luka pushes out a sigh and rolls over on the lounger, kicking at another basketball. This one bounces off the edge and rolls back towards his foot. Dingo wonders if he’d meant to do that the first time.

“We’re fourteen,” Luka points out. “We haven’t even finished collège yet. You have _years_ to find someone. Maybe even someone who’s not Bri.”

“Nah,” Dingo sighs, ducking his head into his arms. His forehead feels like it’s burning, and he hopes Luka hadn’t noticed the obvious blush. “That’s just…that’s me, y’know? Always has been. My own family doesn’t even like me, so why would Bri?”

“I like you,” Luka says, frowning. Dingo snorts. Luka sounds a little hurt when he talks again. “I do. And so does Bri.”

“Bri doesn’t want to get ice cream, though,” Dingo points out, and Luka rolls his eyes.

“André is over-rated,” he scoffs. “Ding, we’re _fourteen_. Right now the only thing Bri wants is to make a kickass portfolio for her Sant-Saëns application. I’m pretty sure she thinks boys still have cooties, too.”

“…no she doesn’t,” Dingo scoffs. He peeks out of his arms to find Luka grinning at him.

“She thinks _you_ have cooties,” he teases. “Some kind of infestation, at least.”

“You are so cruel,” Dingo says, but he’s laughing for the first time since he’d asked Brielle out and she’d thrown a drink in his face. “I hate you. How dare you.”

“You’re not gonna die alone at fourteen,” Luka says after their laughter has petered off. He’s on his back again, grinning up at the stars you can never really see in Paris anyway. Dingo’s about to thank him, to say how glad he is that they met and are friends, when Luka tilts his head back a little and winks. “You’ll die alone at twenty-five. Like the dumbass you are.”

…it’s not much, but it gets him laughing again, and he’s grateful for that. Luka’s probably right, anyway.


	23. Oct 23: Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette finally agrees to get a farm, giving Dingo the PERFECT revenge opportunity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Revenge  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: This song came on Pandora. And that’s about all the excuse I have. xD (Nods towards “Totes His Goat” and all the headcanons that’ve been tossed around LBSC where Luka Compulsively Adopts All The Disabled Animals, to the point where they have to get a farm.)

Dingo’s waited a _long time_ for this opportunity. By the time he finally gets the phone call, Dewey is almost five.

That’s a long freakin’ time to wait for revenge.

But he’s patient (sorta). He knew the opportunity would come. If he could just wait. And, because Luka really is the best mate _ever_ , when Dingo had waited long enough he practically gift-wrapped it for him.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, after all, and Dingo’s been letting his chill for _decades._

“Ding,” Luka says one day, the sounds of Chaos in the background, “ _she said yes_.”

“Yeah, a bit late on that, mate,” he laughs, leaning back in his chair and muting the television. “Harm’s almost fourteen, and you were already married a few years by the time she came around. She said _yes_ ages ago.”

“No, no, no,” Luka says quickly, and Dingo’s eyebrows lift. “Ding. _We’re getting a farm._ ”

“…oh holy hell,” Dingo gawks, and Luka almost sounds like he’s _giggling_. “Well…congratulations? I think?”

It had been a good long while since Dolly had passed, and Luka had been pestering Marinette about a farm for ages. It would be perfect, he claimed, for their really-too-large-for-the-city family and all the pets Luka (and now the kids) keep bringing home. Melody and KK had shambled in muddy with their third stray dog just two weeks ago (a corgi they’d named _Boots_ because of how the mud was sticking to his paws and who Marinette had sent straight home with KK). They really did need the space.

Marinette had spent her entire life in Paris, though. Even travelling for work, she _loves_ the city and has always considered it home. Dingo honestly thought hell would freeze over before Marinette would agree to live in the country.

“It’s not too far from the city,” Luka says, and Dingo realizes he’s been talking the whole time. “Close enough that we can both still commute for work, and the kids don’t have to switch schools unless they want to. It’ll be an adjustment, but the land is _gorgeous_ , Ding. There’s two barns – we’ll have one for the animals, and the other we’re going to convert into a studio. Jagged and Penny are gonna help me set it up. It’s gonna be _perfect_ , Ding.”

“Well, congratulations, then,” Dingo laughs, and they spend the next half hour talking about the future Couffaine farm, how Anarka is probably gonna shit a brick that her pirate son is committing to a land-locked life (he’s not, the property is on the river, and the Captain can dock there any time she wants), and how Marinette must be suffering a psychotic episode before there’s a crash and Luka’s shouting at the twins to _put their brother down, no Hugo Dewey can’t stretch like that oh my God just wait until your mother gets home!_

…Dingo can’t wait to see the kids on a _farm_. Luka is going to lose his mind. It’ll be great.

It’s a few days after that wonderful phone call, and Dingo’s waiting in line for his morning coffee when an old country western song comes on the café’s radio. He fully blames the new girl – an import from America who wears too much plaid and sports her hair in braided pigtails – but after placing his order he _has_ to ask.

“’Scuse me, miss,” he says, tapping his knuckles on the counter before nodding to the speakers, “what is this _glorious_ song?”

“This ol’ thing?” the girl asks, blinking wide green eyes at him. “Kenny Chesney. Everyone knows that.”

Dingo’s always been more rock than country, so no, he actually didn’t, but she tells him the name of the song and he just thanks her with a too-wide grin.

He finds the song as he waits for his coffee, and moments later Luka has a new ringtone on his phone. It’s a few days after that before he actually gets his sweet, sweet revenge, though.

Because for _years_ – since collège – Luka has had Dingo programmed into his phone as _Platypus_. Because Luka knows his first name is Perry (Luka knows his first name is _Peregrine_ , but Luka loves him too much to let anyone else know), and Luka considers him a freak of nature, and Luka has a soft spot for old Disney cartoons (see: his three sons named after the boys from _DuckTales_ ). So instead of his contact saying _Dingo_ like a normal person, Dingo’s contact has always been _Platypus_. Because of Perry the Platypus.

And no matter how many times he’s tried to change it, Luka always changes it back. Eventually Dingo just accepted it, and if anyone sees it and asks they just say it’s because they’re both Australian freaks of nature.

So maybe Dingo’s been looking for a little bit of phone payback for a while now.

Luka’s meeting him at a café before they head to the studio, and he’s running late. The café is crowded when he gets there, and he doesn’t immediately see Dingo – but Dingo sees him. Dingo sneaks up behind him and sets his ringer as loud as it can go as Luka fishes out his phone and dials. Behind him, loud enough to make him jump, Dingo’s phone starts _screaming_ :

_“SHE THINKS MY TRACTOR’S SEXAAAAAAAAY!”_

Luka whirls around, his eyebrows disappearing beneath his bangs, and Dingo gives him a demonic little grin as the song continues to play. Luka’s face scrunches as he listens to the lyrics, but then he’s laughing, too.

“Oh my God,” he wheezes, hanging up his phone and cutting off the song, “that is _great_. What song is that? I have to get that for Mari.”

Dingo’s only a little upset he’s not more insulted, but then Luka’s calling his phone a second time and laughing when the chorus screams out again.

A few months later, when they’re good and settled on the farm, Marinette sends him a picture of a shirtless Luka sitting atop a big, green tractor. There’s a red bandana around his neck and a cowboy hat on his head, and there’s even a stalk of wheat sticking out of his mouth as he waves at the camera. The message accompanying the picture has Dingo _howling_.

_MC: God, you’re right. His tractor is VERY sexy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQg_ikNf7Gs


	24. Oct 24: Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka is roped into manning a kissing booth, so of course he ropes Dingo into it, too.
> 
> And Marinette just feels bad that nobody wants to pay to kiss Dingo. It has NOTHING to do with jealousy. Nope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Teeth  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: I made a mistake & made it sound like Marinette knew for certain what kissing Dingo was like, and Mal asked, and it maybe ran away from me. Took a couple sprints for this one because Makeouts. xD (I’m trying to catch up on these, y’all, but I’ve been incredibly sick all week and writing has just…not happened.)

Marinette grits her teeth together. She’s trying to keep a pleasant smile on her face, but by the way the two girls immediately scoot over to the left and hand their money to Brielle, she’s pretty sure she hasn’t succeeded.

It’s not her fault, though.

It’s _Ginger’s_.

Ginger, who was the lead president/chair/whatever of the student government. Ginger, who had recommended _all students most participate in the Fall Festival_ (even going so far as to suggest they be _graded_ on their performance!), to encourage _student morale_. Ginger, who had seen a trashy American teenage romcom that featured a couple getting together over a _kissing booth_ and had suggested that (the kissing booth) as the terminale contribution to the school’s upcoming student fundraising festival. Ginger, who had spent the past ten minutes slipping cash into the jar in front of Luka Couffaine to monopolize his required time at the booth.

…fucking _Ginger,_ who was currently pressing her tongue against Luka’s tightly-sealed lips in an attempt to coax him into a deeper kiss.

“You need to calm down,” Brielle tells her, placing what she knows is supposed to be a comforting hand on her arm. “I can hear your teeth grinding.”

“I am calm,” Marinette snaps. Brielle’s eyebrows lift, but she says nothing as she looks back across the aisle. Because Ginger is vindictive like that: she set the seconde snack stand up directly across from the kissing booth, knowing Marinette would be manning it. And no one can convince Marinette it wasn’t intentional, because ever since the little hussy had shown up she’s been shooting smug little smirks her way. Because Marinette had been forced to sit directly across from her b… _friend_ and watch people smooch him all morning.

And she had thought she was done with the _Chloé Bourgeois_ es of the world when she left Françoise Dupont behind…

And it’s not like she should even _care!_ It’s just Luka. Just her friend. She has no claim to his lips. She has no reason to be upset if he kisses anyone else. It’s not like she’s in love with him. Not like she has been for a long time now.

…it’s not like she’s been too afraid she missed her chance with him to act on it.

So why should she care if Luka’s jar is almost overflowing with money? If anything, she should just be upset that people are taking advantage of the opportunity to accost one of the most popular guys in school! Yeah, exactly! And she doesn’t feel bad for Luka: she feels bad for _Dingo!_ Because Luka had forced Dingo to join him at the booth when Ginger had assigned him to it, so he wouldn’t be suffering alone all morning, but…

…well. No one seems to want to pay to kiss Dingo King, and that’s just sad. It has to be a blow to his (admittedly over-inflated) ego. Or maybe it’s because the snack stand is directly across from them, Brielle had volunteered to help Marinette run things, and she’s been sitting there glaring at every poor soul that has tried to pay for a Dingo kiss.

Her attention is snapped back to the booth as Ginger leans back on the table and reaches into her purse. She’s pouting at Luka, who just looks…annoyed. Like he’s going to use the rest of the weekend to sleep off this horrible experience. (If they were older, she would say like he could use a stiff drink – or a dozen – to forget the feel of the little hussy’s lips.)

“Lulu, I can keep this up _all day_ ,” Ginger purrs, brushing some of her carrot-orange hair out of her face. Luka’s lips press together, and she _simpers_ as she drops some more money into his jar. Marinette wonders if she’s choosing to ignore the obvious way Dingo rolls his eyes and gags from where he’s slumped over the table beside them. “I’m not giving up until I know what you taste like, _mon coeur_.”

Marinette’s not sure if it’s what she’s just said or the nauseated look on Luka’s face, but she _snaps_.

Brielle jumps back as Marinette’s hands slap onto the table.

“Marinette, what the hell -?!” she starts, but Marinette is already stomping across the aisle, her hand rooting through her purse. She barely hears Tikki’s squeak or feels her kwami dive out of the way, and honestly they’re both lucky she doesn’t accidentally grab her instead when she drops the fistful of money into Dingo’s jar. Dingo jerks up, his sunglasses of the day (a heart-shaped pair Rose had found him to _match the booth_ ) slipping down his nose as he blinks wide brown eyes at her. Luka’s mouth twists a bit tighter, his face turning an interesting color as his eyes narrow at Dingo’s jar.

“M-Mari, what…what’cha doing, baby girl?” Dingo chokes, and Marinette grabs his face in her hands.

“You’ve been sitting in this hot sun for almost three hours now, Dingo,” she tuts. “You deserve _something_ for all your hard work.”

So she hauls him out of his seat, halfway across the table, and slams her mouth against his own. And it’s…it’s honestly not the _best_ kiss she’s ever had, but it’s pretty much par for the course. (All of her kisses so far have been in the heat of battle, usually trying to snap Chat Noir out of some sort of brainwashing, and none of them have been enjoyable or what she thinks kissing someone should actually be like.) His lips maybe have a bit too much chapstick on them, and he maybe yelps at the surprise kiss so her lips maybe catch on his teeth, but she holds on and wills him to go with it, but he just stands there _frozen_ until she groans and pulls away. If she’s glaring at him when she does, she doesn’t really think that’s her fault.

“Marinette, what the _fuck_ –” Luka starts, but Ginger’s high-pitched laughter and Dingo’s Deer in the Headlights look and the feel of Brielle’s glare on her back make her realize she’s just been very _Stupid_ , and her face is burning as she shoves Dingo back into his seat and runs away.

What the hell had she just done?

– V –

She finds an empty classroom on the far side of the school and wedges herself between the wall and a supply cabinet in the back. She tells herself she just needs a minute, or twenty, before she can go back to the booth and face the others. She tells herself she should just go home, because there’s only a few more hours left in the festival, and Brielle can manage the snack stand on her own, and does she really want to face any of them so soon?

She’s not expecting any of them to come looking for her, though it shouldn’t surprise her when she hears Luka’s voice coming from the hall. She wedges herself in tighter and prays he won’t find her.

He’s always been so in tune with her, though. It also shouldn’t surprise her when he opens the door to the classroom, her name dying on his lips when he spots her in the back.

“Go away,” she mumbles, but he’s already on his knees beside her and tugging her against his chest. She fights him only a little, but his arms have always been her safest place and it’s too easy to relax against him. “ _Luka_.”

“I don’t know if I just fell more in love with you or I want to strangle you,” he chuckles, and she freezes as his hand slips into her hair. He holds her closer, and her heart stutters a little when his lips press against the top of her head. “Seeing the look on Ginger’s face was totally worth it, but it’s really not fair that Dingo got to kiss you first.”

“…he kissed _you_ first,” she replies almost robotically, and he gives her a little squeeze as he laughs.

“I keep telling myself I have no right to get upset over you kissing him,” he says after a long moment, his laughter dying off in a sigh. He hasn’t let her go. She doesn’t think she wants him to. “You…you know how I feel, Mari. You know where I stand. And I’ve left it up to you, and if I’m not what you want…I’m ok with that. I have to be. But –”

“You are what I want, you dummy,” she says, pressing closer to him as her hand fists in his hoodie. He seems to still – not freeze, not like Dingo had, but just…stop. As if he’s waiting. “I was jealous, ok? She kept kissing you, and you had to let her, and…I don’t know what I was thinking. Nobody was kissing Dingo. I didn’t _want_ to kiss Dingo. But I couldn’t just kiss you, and –”

“You can kiss me any time you want,” he says quickly, and she groans a little as she hides her face against his neck. His hand cups against the back of her head, and his arm wraps a bit more securely around her waist. “Please kiss me. I won’t even charge you for it. I need to enjoy at least one of them today.”

“L-Luka…” she laughs, and he makes a whining little noise as he curls around her.

“If you’re not going to kiss me, can I kiss you?” he mumbles into her ear, and her heart does that little stutter-flip-jump again. She leans back a little, and he’s smiling the stupidest smile at her. His hand moves from her hair to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “Please?”

She kisses him instead of answering, but maybe that’s answer enough.

She doesn’t jump him like she jumped Dingo. Luka deserves better than that – but it is fast. A quick, almost hesitant press of lips, like she has to do it before she can talk herself out of it, or maybe before he can change his mind. She’s already pulling away when his hands are coming up to cradle her face, and then the kiss is becoming something…softer. More precise and determined. A slow exploration, a desire to know with the hope that once known it will become familiar. Luka seems to go boneless, falling back onto his butt and pulling her with him, and then she’s giggling against his mouth as he overbalances and they fall backwards onto the floor. She lands with her face pressed against his chest, and she spares one moment to press a kiss above his pounding heart before she crawls up to his face. She settles over him, smiling as he pulls his knees up to lock her in. His fingers tuck her hair behind her ear, and he’s smiling at her like…like she should be kissing him again.

“No good,” he says, and it’s just enough to make her pause with her lips halfway to his own.

“…no?” she asks, uncertain, but he’s still smiling. His fingers curl around the back of her neck, but he doesn’t go to pull her back down.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I enjoyed that entirely too much. I don’t know how I’m going to sit through another hour at that booth when I could be kissing you instead.”

She feels her face warm, but he’s pulling her back to him, and her breath hitches as he brushes his lips against her own.

“I…I don’t know,” she says, trying to keep her tone light. He hums, and it’s all she can do not to kiss him stupid. “I think…I think Dingo might be a better kisser than you. I hate to te-mmf!”

There’s a flurry and a scramble, and suddenly she’s on her back and he’s kissing her much more aggressively than before and…and she has to admit she kind of likes it. Ok she likes it a lot. There’s an embarrassing little noise that escapes her, and then his tongue’s passing along her lip and she’s making it again and…ok, so that’s what someone else’s tongue in your mouth feels like. She thinks she might like it, if it’s Luka. He kisses her until they’re both breathless, and even then he only moves his face to nuzzle against her neck, and she giggles as his panting breaths tickle against her skin.

“Still…still prefer Dingus?” he asks, and she laughs at the slight. She tries to push him off of her, but he makes another protesting noise before he kisses her again – a little slower this time, but with less of the uncertainty of their first go. His arms are braced on either side of her head, and she giggles when his stretching fingers catch the strands of her pigtails and begin twirling them. The giggle is an invitation, and she sighs when his tongue flicks against her own. Her arms have found their way around his back, and her hands slip up to grip his shoulders and hold him closer. Honestly, this is worlds better than whatever kissing Dingo had been. Kissing Dingo had only made her want to flee. Kissing Luka…she wouldn’t mind staying here forever, given half the chance.

“…don’t make me go back out there,” he whines when they finally break apart. His nose nudges her ear, and she sighs as he plops down beside her. He’s barely settled when she crawls onto him, snuggling against his side as his arms wrap around her and hold her close. “I can’t kiss Ginger again after kissing you.”

“I don’t want you kissing anyone after kissing me,” she says, and if she sounds like she’s pouting it’s only because he had, too. He dips his head to drop a kiss against her hair, and before he can pull away she’s leaning up to catch his lips with her own.

“No fair,” he murmurs when she tries to kiss him again. “I’m not…”

“Bri can handle the snack stand,” Marinette says, dropping her head back onto his chest. “And if Ginger wants that damn kissing booth so bad, _she_ can man it. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours?” he asks, sounding a little dazed. She glances up at him, and he’s giving her the stupidest smile.

“I…if you want to be, I mean?” she says, unconsciously picking at one of the rips in his shirt. His lips twitch when her fingers accidently poke at his stomach instead. “I was kinda hoping this means I’m yours, and it only seems fair that –”

He kisses her again, one more time, before dropping back against the tile with a happy sigh.

“Totally fair,” he says, bringing his other arm around her and holding her tight. “More than fair. Yes, I am one hundred percent yours. God, I love the sound of that. I –”

“Luka?” she asks, cutting him off with a laugh. He pops open an eye and glances down at her, humming in response. “Shut up.”

“…you might have to make me,” he wheedles, and she’s laughing again as he pulls her in for another kiss.

Needless to say, neither make it back to their respective booths any time soon.


	25. Oct 25: Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bri's not really a flower type of girl. Not like Marinette or Rose are.
> 
> Still, it's their first date, and Dingo thinks he has to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Flowers  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Marinette Dupain-Cheng; background Lukanette & Bringo  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Paper flowers are nothing new, and Bestie (former music major) was actually looking at the sheet music roses for a wedding bouquet once. I have no idea if you could actually do this with photo negatives, but wouldn’t it be neat?

Dingo doesn’t believe in flowers. Not like, say, Rose or Marinette do. He’s pretty sure Bri doesn’t, either, but Bri’s still a girl and girls are _supposed_ to like flowers.

Which is what finds him in a flower shop the day before their first date, staring down the various bouquets like his life depends on it. The girls behind the counter are placing bets on him, he’s sure: how big he’s screwed up or how big he will. If Rose was with him, she’d know the perfect flower to get. She speaks their language and would be able to build the perfect bouquet, one that breathes sentimentality and meaning and _Bri_. Marinette has the creative eye and knows just enough about flowers that she would craft him something visually stunning and symbolically appropriate. Both would call him a dumbass and remind him that Bri doesn’t like flowers, anyway.

Because he doesn’t see red for romance or pink for affection or white for pure love. He doesn’t see how the various shapes and sizes and hues fit together to say _I’m Mad for You_. He just sees daisies, and roses, and something squiggly, and if they’re white or pink or red or yellow that’s just color.

Bri’s not big on _color_ , either.

…which is a thought that just sets him to spiraling again, because Bri really doesn’t like color, so what the hell is she doing with _him?_ Bri likes solitude and darkness and quiet. She’s a background observer, watching the world through the lens of her camera instead of actively participating. Dingo, on the other hand, is a livewire. He’s loud and obnoxious and nothing _but_ color. Hell, he has a different pair of sunglasses for every day of the week (and then some!), and each one is louder than the last. Looking at them together, they don’t make sense. No wonder it took her so long to agree to go out with him: they’re polar opposites. Doomed to failure. Doomed to –

“Dingo?”

He jumps nearly a foot out of his skin at the voice, but his grin is easy (if shaken) as he turns to find Marinette blinking at his elbow. She’s wearing a dress he knows Luka would kill himself over, a big bundle of puffy white flowers in her arms. She glances at the display In front of him, an amused little smile curling her lips.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, and his laugh is maybe a bit more crazed than usual.

“Me? Er…nothing, really! Just…ah…” he trails off, for once unable to come up with a decent excuse. Or any excuse. Marinette’s smile brightens a little.

“…your date’s tomorrow!” she says, bouncing a little. He winces and rubs at the back of his head. “You’re getting Bri flowers?”

“Well…yeah?” he hazards with a shrug. When she continues to grin at him, clearly still amused, he groans. “It’s protocol, innit? Bring the girl flowers or something?”

“Typically, yes,” she says, nodding. She shrugs a little. “Luka didn’t bring me flowers on our first date.”

“Luka brought his guitar and wrote you a song,” Dingo scoffs. “I think that trumps flowers.”

“Not when Luka always has his guitar,” Marinette says with a laugh. “Flowers are more novel with him. They’re for special occasions.”

Dingo doesn’t look convinced, but Marinette’s turned her attention to the bouquets he’d been inspecting before. She taps a finger against her chin and hums.

“Did you have anything particular in mind?” she asks. She looks…perplexed. “You know, now that I think about it, does Bri even _have_ a favorite flower?”

Funeral flowers, Dingo can’t help but think. Something in grayscale that would look good on an abandoned café table with a cigarette still smoldering in the ashtray. Something _moody_. Before he can say this, Marinette’s snapping her fingers and grabbing his wrist.

“Come on – I have the perfect idea!” she calls, and then she’s dragging him from the florist and to the bakery, ignoring his cries of protest (and _“Don’t you have to pay for those?!”_ ).

Fifteen minutes later, he’s sitting anxiously on her chaise while she picks at something over her desk. She’d grabbed a few boxes and had immediately gotten to work, pausing only long enough to put some music on. Dingo had smiled at that, as he’d immediately recognized the guitar and soft humming coming from her speakers. Marinette had been too lost in her project to notice his smirk.

“Here!”

Dingo jumps when she kicks away from her desk, wheeling her chair over to him and presenting him with a single rose. Except…it’s not a rose? Not really? It’s…a paper rose. Except…

“I saw something similar on Pinterest using sheet music,” Marinette says, her cheeks dusting a light pink. “I…ah…our anniversary is coming up, and I was going to make some to accent my dress using some of Luka’s music. But I thought…really, any kind of paper would work, and photo negatives are just another kind of paper, right?”

“It’s _perfect_ ,” Dingo gasps, gently taking the rose from her. He’s amazed Marinette was able to craft something so stunning in such a short time, but Marinette has always been amazing like that. Sure enough, the petals are twisted from old negatives. When held up to the light, you can see the tiny pictures inside. It’s a flower, but it’s just kitschy enough that he knows Bri will _love_ it – and it’s photography-related, which makes it even _better_ , and… “Thank you, Marinette.”

Her cheeks darken, but she’s smiling.

“Just…don’t tell Luka my plan, ok?” she asks, and he laughs and nods. She hums and taps the stem. “If you manage to not screw this up, try and get me some of _her_ negatives for your anniversary. Maybe ones that have the two of you in it. If I have enough time and materials, I can make you a bouquet.”

“Anniversary’s a long way away, baby girl,” he laughs nervously. “Let’s see if I survive the first date first.”

She smiles like she doesn’t think that’s going to be an issue. He’s normally so cocksure, but in this case he wishes he had just a bit of her confidence.

Still, he can’t help but think as he looks back at the perfect paper flower. It’s something to keep in mind. For the future.


	26. Oct 26: Costume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo transforms with Inkki for the first time. He has some...concerns about his super suit.
> 
> (It's barely a suit, for one.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Costume  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Inkki (OC kwami)  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: I started this with the idea of going into detail about Ininko’s super suit. That’s still here, but Idk what the rest is. xD (…technically all Ininko needs to say to activate his power is “ink”, but bc it’s Dingo and he’s Extra he goes, “Awwww…you made me INK!”)

“You’re taking this better than most people would.”

It’s to his merit – how _well_ he’s taking it – that Dingo’s eyebrow only twitches a little. The little octopus on his shoulder squirms a little, and the feeling is…disturbing, at best.

“I told you: I know what kwamis are,” he says, reaching for the pot of coffee the little guy had insisted he make. Inkki squirms on his shoulder again before taking off, and Dingo’s glad for the reprieve. He knows Sass spends half his time coiled up in Luka’s hoodie, but Sass isn’t _slimy_. “My best mate has been defending Paris with a Miraculous for _years_.”

Inkki only hums as Dingo reaches for a mug. He grins when he sees the teal kraken mug his cousin had found online somewhere. He wonders if he’ll let him take it home with him.

“Have you?” Inkki asks once he’s floating in the coffee. He bobs a little, submerging himself before stretching his little tentacles out to float.

“Have I what?” he asks, hopping up on the counter beside the mug. He’s filled his own with the rest of the coffee, and he takes a long drag from his mug. Part of him thinks he’s still asleep.

“Been defending Paris for years?” Inkki clarifies, and Dingo shrugs.

“LB doesn’t really trust me with a Miraculous,” he says. At Inkki’s look, Dingo shrugs again. “She’s dating my mate. He got really sick last winter, and I kinda stepped in then? I’m not a very good snake, though.”

Inkki makes a sound that could be interpreted as laughing, and bubbles rise up around him.

“No,” he says, slapping a tentacle against the surface of the coffee. “I know Sass. I suppose you wouldn’t be.”

There’s a little gleam in his eyes as he spins in the coffee and adds, “I think you’ll be a good octopus, though.”

Which is what finds Dingo in his temporary bedroom a short while later. The little ring that Inkki had been clinging to in the water – the one that had glinted in the sun and first caught Dingo’s attention – was curled around his finger. It looked like a pewter tentacle, something offbeat and kitschy and inconspicuous. Recalling how Luka’s bangle looked untransformed, Dingo supposes that’s the point.

“So how does this work?” Dingo asks, twisting his hand to inspect the ring from various angles. Inkki’s floating by his head, smirking. Dingo shoots him a little grin. “What’re my right words, octopus king?”

“To use my Miraculous, you must say, _Inkki, Dive Deep!_ ” Inkki says. Dingo nods, curling his hand into a fist.

“And what’s your power?” he asks. Inkki gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. Sass is a snake, right? You’d think he’d be venom or hypnosis or something, not _limited time control_.”

“If you cry out _Ink_ , you can attack your enemies with paralyzing ink,” Inkki says, and Dingo’s grin widens a little.

“ _Much_ cooler than time,” he says, raising his fist towards the little kwami. Inkki just watches him, and he wiggles his fingers at him. Inkki remains still, and Dingo sighs. “Buddy, we gotta get you up to date with the times. It’s called a fist bump.”

“…I don’t have fists,” Inkki points out, and Dingo can only laugh as he shakes his head.

“Ok,” he says. “Let’s do this. Inkki, Dive Deep!”

There’s a flash of blue-green light, and when it clears Dingo is blinking at his mirror through large, golden goggles with blue lenses. He doesn’t know quite how to feel as he stares at his reflection. The costume of the Octopus Miraculous is certainly a lot more… _revealing_ than any he’s seen so far.

Really, it’s nonexistent.

The most concealing part of the suit – if you can even call it a _suit_ – is the blue and gold knee-length sarong tied around his hips. There are golden bangles – two each, totaling eight – on his wrists and ankles, and his feet are bare. No boots. No pants. No _shirt_. Eight more bangles – necklaces? – wrap around his neck, all in gold. Large golden goggles with blue lenses cover his eyes, giving him a mad scientist vibe, and a blue scarf is wrapped around his forehead. His hair has turned a dark blonde, stretching out behind him in eight thick dreads that would almost reach his waist if they’d fall flat. There are chunky blue beads threaded throughout them, reminding him of Inkki’s spots. And yeah, he looks _sick_ , but…he can’t imagine this _super suit_ is very practical.

He’s been in akuma fights before, both as a hero and as a civilian. There’s no way he’s coming out of any battle with Hawkmoth unscathed. Shit, just running around Paris’s rooftops for patrol is going to tear his feet up…

“Inkki,” he sighs, lodging his hands firmly on his hips, “I’m not quite sure this is gonna work, mate.”


	27. Oct 27: Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo lands himself in the emergency room at midnight for...well.
> 
> This week on Sex Brought Me to the ER: Places You Should Never Dye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Midnight  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Brielle Girard (OC)  
> Rating: M / PG-16 / Older Teen (for mentions of Dingo’s Junk)  
> Notes: I wrote this at 2:30 AM instead of sleeping because my sleep schedule got JACKED yesterday. This is teeeeechnically Bloody’s fault, but the Question of Things had been raised before and…hey so this actually happened to an old boss of mine and all I can say is Please Dye Responsibly. xD

“Shut up, you big baby.”

Dingo can only whimper again. Brielle just sniffs and flips the page in the waiting room magazine she’d brought back with them. She isn’t particularly pleased with him at the moment, though that’s partially because she’d had to put her pants back on and partially because she could be sleeping right now.

It’s almost midnight, but she’d had an early morning shoot that day, and she had been planning on another one that was now being postponed thanks to his…

“This is your own fault,” she adds, as if he needs reminding. He makes another pathetic little noise and curls in on himself. She does spare him a glance this time, and the furrow of her brows lets him know she still cares a _little_ , though he’s not entirely sure if it’s because he’s in pain or he’s potentially damaged her favorite toy. (…that’s uncharitable and mean. He knows she loves him and is actually worried he’s caused permanent damage because of that (the love) and not because of _where_.) “I refuse to feel sorry for you.”

“I did this for _you_ ,” he reminds her, his voice a whiny croak.

“…you did this for some warped sense of vanity,” she scoffs. “I could care less what color your pubes are.”

There’s a choked little laugh on the other side of the curtain behind her, and she rolls up her magazine to swat at the person sitting behind her.

“Hey!” she snaps, glaring over her shoulder. “Yeah, he’s a dumbass, but he’s _my_ dumbass, and I’m the only one allowed to mock him for this!”

“My angel,” he grumbles when the person in the bay next to them grumbles out an apology. That’s the problem with emergency rooms: for all the medical hoopla about _patient confidentiality_ , there’s not really a whole lot of privacy when you’re crammed in a space barely large enough to hold a bed and sectioned off by curtains.

“Shut up,” Brielle snaps at him, settling back in her chair and finding the article she’d been reading. “I’m still mad at you.”

Because it really was his fault they were here. He was the one who’d had the _genius_ idea of…er…making the _drapes match the curtains_ , or however that expression went. Except the shop had been out of his usual dye, which should have been perfectly safe for…er…certain _more sensitive_ areas. And he’d used another brand that was less… _organic_. And he’d just assumed _dye is dye,_ even though he should really know better, and hadn’t fully read the instructions or warnings until Brielle had come home and found him collapsed in the tub, howling as he aimed the shower head at his crotch and tried to wash the damn stuff off. Bri had thrown some sweatpants at him and hauled his ass to the local emergency room, where she had cheerfully told the receptionist her dumbass husband had chemical burns on his junk – _do you wanna know why?_

…hindsight, he deserves her ire. He also deserves the random bursts of laughter they can hear coming from the nurses’ station. The doctor had already been in to see him, and he’d quickly excused himself claiming an _emergency page_. The first round of laughter had come shortly after.

“You are so cruel, Brielle Queen,” he moans quietly. He wishes the damn nurse would just get back with the ointment already.

“You are so stupid, Peregrine King,” she tuts back. He whines again, and she sighs as she puts her magazine down. She stands and moves to his side, and he blinks pathetically at her as she runs her hand along his head. “But you’re my stupid, and I’m sorry your stupid is hurting you.”

“…you’re going to tell Luka, aren’t you?” he asks, and her smile is almost worse than the burning around his junk.

“Babe,” she coos, bending down to kiss his forehead. “He was the first person I texted. With pictures. He wants me to use it as our Christmas card.”

“…I hate you both so fucking much,” he groans. She laughs and reaches for his hand, grinning as she pulls it away from the blanket covering his lap. Her eyebrows raise as she peeks at his reddened skin.

“Shame the hair fell out,” she hums, smirking at him. “Your ass is so boney that cushioning was a blessing.”

“…Bri!” he moans, and she’s snickering again as she kisses his forehead. Before she can say anything else, the curtain pulls back to show a nurse carrying a small jar and reading a chart.

“Peregrine King?” the nurse asks, and Dingo winces.

“Dingo, please,” he says. The nurse looks up at him and purses her lips, her eyes roaming critically over the deflating mohawk, the piercings, the redness above the blanket that shows what the chart has already told her. Brielle smiles cheerfully at her. On anyone else, the expression wouldn’t look half as terrifying.

“Go ahead,” she says, gesturing to his poor, abused willy. “Tell him what a dumbass he is. Please. I _beg_ you.”

“…I’m just here to dress him up and send him on his way, ma’am,” the nurse says, but there’s a weariness about her that says she’s over her entire shift with this last one. “Let’s take a look at you, M. King.”

…she looks a little less judgmental when she pulls the blanket down, even though it’s a lot less impressive when the cool air hits his burning skin and Dingo whimpers again. Brielle’s hand lands on his shoulder, the other taking his hand and letting him squeeze. She smirks at the nurse when she glances up at her, her eyebrows high on her forehead.

“I know,” she says smugly, and if Dingo was in better shape he might have slapped her. The nurse just nods in appreciation and twists open the jar, turning her attention to the enflamed skin with a handful of scraggly, green pubes sticking out awkwardly.

When she applies the ointment and a truly indecent moan escapes him, the jackass in the bay next to them finally loses it. Dingo wouldn’t have really cared, except Brielle rips the curtain back to give him a piece of her mind, and they come face-to-face with Captain Raincomprix and a wide-eyed rookie holding a gauze to his bleeding shoulder. Captain Roger’s eyes fall to Dingo’s exposed crotch, and the expression on his face is kind of priceless.

“Good Lord, son,” he says with a low whistle. “No wonder you put up with him, Mme. Queen.”


	28. Oct 28: Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo realizes a little too late he ran into his first akuma fight without knowing what Inkki would need to recharge.
> 
> Oops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Treat  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Inkki (OC kwami)  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: This one kinda stumped me, ngl. Three more! Let’s do this!

Something – probably a car – slams into the building above him, and Ininko Montoya lets out a colorful string of language Ladybug’ll probably chew him out for later as he scrambles for (better) cover. He presses his bare back against an alley wall and peeks around the corner in time to see Chat Noir follow after the car.

There’s a feeling of smugness he knows isn’t coming from him, and he tries not to roll his eyes at his kwami. (He’s still pissed at the little guy – he needed more training or _something_ before running off half-cocked into an akuma fight. The new Hawkmoth has proven time and again he’s more dangerous than Gabriel Agreste, and Ininko feels woefully underprepared.)

“Chat! Are you ok?” he hears Ladybug call, seconds before she drops onto the street beside Chat Noir. Chat groans as he pushes himself up, rubbing his head. His glove comes away sticky with blood.

“N-never better, M’Lady,” he says, though he sounds shaken. He tries to wipe the blood away before Ladybug can see it, but even from this distance Ininko can see the way her eyes narrow at his hand. “Dammit. Where’d that new guy go?”

“Didn’t think you’d want him sticking around,” Viperion adds as he drops behind him. His hands are already in Chat’s hair, pushing it back to see how bad the wound really is. “You’ll be fine. Head wounds always bleed worse than they look.”

“We could use Ininko’s ink for this guy,” Ladybug mutters, looking back at where the akuma is cackling above the buildings a street over, long Eldritch tendrils reaching out for another car to toss. “I can’t get close enough to do any real damage, let alone find the damn akuma.”

They continue to strategize, and Ininko groans as he slinks further into the alley. His Miraculous is beeping, and before he can check how many suckers are left a blue-green flash surrounds him and Inkki is falling into his open hands. He needs to recharge, but he’s still new at this. He has _no idea_ what the little guy eats.

“Ok, mate,” he says, running his thumb along Inkki’s bulbous head. The octopus blinks blearily at him, and he tries to smile. “They still need us out there.”

“…food,” Inkki says, and Dingo nods.

“Got’cha,” he says. “What do you need? Cookies? Eggs? Cheese?”

“Coffee,” Inkki says, and even if he’s weak he still somehow manages to strike up enough ire to sound annoyed. It’s probably the cheese comment: Inkki _hates_ Plagg, and any association with the kwami of destruction tends to piss him off. Still, Dingo just blinks stupidly at him.

“Wait…seriously? I thought you just liked to swim in the stuff,” he says. “It’s not food.”

“ _I need coffee_ ,” Inkki tells him with all the severity of a university senior stuck with an upper-level class at seven AM on a Friday. His tentacles curl around Dingo’s fingers, and Dingo suspects if he doesn’t find him some coffee soon Inkki’s going to ink his ass.

“Right! There…ah…I think there was a café a few shops down…” he mutters, glancing around. If they were still open – any sensible business would’ve shut down when the cars started flying.

When the coast is clear (of both other supers and projectiles), he darts down the road to where he kind of remembers the café being. The front window is shattered, and the door is hanging off its frame. He ducks inside to find the place deserted, so without a second thought he vaults the counter and grabs one of the coffee pots on the back counter. He drops Inkki in without a second thought and moves to the pastry case, pulling out a croissant just to be safe. Inkki has submerged himself in the coffee, and when he pops back up he looks _worlds_ better.

“You sure you don’t need something more sustaining?” Dingo asks, waggling the croissant at him. It won’t be as good as one of Marinette’s, but he’s known her long enough to know why her parents are the best bakers in Paris.

“Coffee is life,” Inkki chirps, bobbing in the pot. Dingo rolls his eyes and takes a bite of the croissant. He was right: it’s shit compared to a T&S classic.

“Well, hurry up,” he says, tossing the croissant towards the bin. If it misses, Dingo doesn’t worry too much: Ladybug’s Miracle Cure will clean it up, anyway. “They need us back out there.”

He hops onto the counter next to Inkki and watches him submerge himself again. He doesn’t resurface, but the coffee in the pot starts to…sink. It continues to disappear, and a moment later a very happy, very bloated Inkki can be seen in the dregs at the bottom of the empty pot. He burps and sighs, his tentacles flopping like he’s Dalek Caan and has just flown into the Void.

…he wants to tell Inkki how weird he is, but Dingo’s never really liked that word, anyway. He stays quiet until Inkki floats up a moment later, nodding and letting him know he’s ready.


	29. Oct 29: Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug needs Viperion, but Luka's too sick to fight.
> 
> ...it's not preferable, but she guess Dingo will do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Need  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: Originally Quick gave me a GREAT idea for this one, but I didn’t want to do two centered on Dingo’s junk (ew). I think it was Oct 26 (Costume) I mentioned Dingo taking over for Luka as Viperion once?

“All right, mate, wakey-wakey!” Dingo calls as he shoulders open Luka’s door. He’s got a bottle of water in one hand and Luka’s pills in the other. “Time for your…”

He freezes in the doorway as he sees Ladybug sitting on Luka’s bed, her blue eyes wide behind the mask as she stares back at him. Luka’s head is on her lap, and he groans at the light Dingo had flipped on upon entering the room. He curls closer to Ladybug, pressing his face into her stomach.

“…oh, _hell no!”_ Dingo snaps, the pieces falling together in his mind. Ladybug’s hand fists in Luka’s sweat-slicked hair, and he groans a little louder. “No, Marinette! He’s _sick!_ Look at him – he can’t even move! You can’t –”

“I know that, dumbass!” Ladybug snaps back, but she winces when Luka’s hand fists beside her hip, and she smooths his hair back as she looks back at him. “I’m sorry. I know, star. I’m sorry.”

“He can’t fight,” Dingo says firmly, crossing over to the bed to stand over them with his arms folded over his chest. Ladybug looks worried.

“I need Viperion’s power,” she finally says. Her hand stills on his head, and she chews on her lip. “I knew he was too sick to…but I was hoping maybe he’d be feeling better. Or…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You’re thinking Hawkmoth sucks and you’re desperate,” Dingo sighs. He shoves Luka’s legs over and drops on the edge of the bed. He shakes Luka a little. Luka barely has the strength to kick at him. “Oi. You need to take your medicine, dumbass.”

“He was throwing up when I got here,” Ladybug says. “I don’t think he’ll be able to keep it down right now.”

“Shit,” Dingo mutters. He puts the water and the bottle of pills on the amp Luka uses as a bedside table and pokes him. “Ok. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Lu, when you’re stomach’s settled, take your medicine. LB, I’ll take Sass and go with you.”

Luka makes an agitated little noise, and Dingo shoves him again. He curls closer to Ladybug, who’s glaring at him.

“You see any other options?” Dingo asks. Ladybug sighs and shakes her head.

“No,” she says, “because the Snake is one Miraculous I can’t wield with my own. I can’t be on the sidelines and still fight the akuma at the same time. Dingo, are you _sure_ you can do this? You’re not exactly…”

“Oh, I know I can’t do this,” Dingo scoffs, “but what other choice do we have? Neither one of us are gonna let him out of this bed until he’s better.”

Ladybug looks back at Luka, her eyes softening. Dingo sighs and reaches out, laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing.

“He’s only had one dose so far, baby girl,” he says. “He’ll be a lot better tomorrow, but Paris can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“I feel so helpless,” she says quietly. “I can’t…I need to be here with him.”

“Paris needs you, too,” Dingo says. “And I’ve got him. Besides, if you were here, you’d just get sick, too, and then where would Paris be?”

Ladybug’s smile is small, but it’s there. She bends down to kiss Luka’s forehead, and he blinks blearily at her before holding his wrist up. She slips the bangle off and presses her lips back to his skin. Luka tries to sit up, but the most he can manage is to slide off her lap and crawl to his pillow. He glares at Dingo as Ladybug hands him the Miraculous, but it’s not as effective as it would be if he was at full strength.

“Keep…keep her safe,” he chokes out, and Dingo rolls his eyes before flicking his hip. Luka winces, and Dingo gives him an apologetic smile. Luka had already told him his skin had felt like a livewire with his fever.

“You know I won’t let anything happen to her,” he says, and Ladybug snorts.

“It’s cute that you both seem to think _he’s_ going to be the one protecting _me_ ,” she scoffs. Her hand has found Luka’s again, and she squeezes as she looks back at Dingo. Sass has appeared on his shoulder, his glowing eyes watching him uncertainly. “Are you sure you can do this, Dingo?”

“Not at all, Mari,” he says with a laugh, “but we’re kinda out of options, ain’t we?”

“You know Chat makesssss a horrible ssssnake,” Sass reminds her, and she groans as she rubs at her eyes.

“Ok,” she says. “Ok. Ok. Then…Dingo King, this is the Miraculous of the Snake. You will use it to wield the power of –”

“Ladybug,” Dingo says, smiling a little sardonically at her. “Do we really have time for your big speech?”

“…just shut up and transform,” Ladybug groans. “To activate the Miraculous, say _Sass, Scales Slither!_ To use his power, say _Second Chance_. You’ll have five minutes –”

“To reset as many times as it takes, I know,” Dingo says, waving her off. “Now. Let’s do this.”

Luka ducks his face into his pillow and willfully ignores the shouted words and flashing light that signals Dingo’s time as the wielder of the Snake Miraculous has begun. He’s not sure if the sinking feeling in his gut is the nausea or the knowledge that there’s no way this akuma fight can end well.


	30. Oct. 30: Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo asks Luka to go back to Australia with him. There's just one problem: Luka hates planes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Flight  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: I got this idea of Luka being scared of flying/getting airsick, and Idk if it’s fully feasible but I kinda love it?

Luka’s hands clutch the armrests in a white-knuckled grip. Dingo tries not to snicker, but it’s hard: he’s never seen him so freaked out before. Luka’s one of the chillest people he knows, and to see him so bent out of shape over something as second-nature to Dingo as flying is…something.

Up until their boarding call, he would have sworn that Luka Couffaine wasn’t scared of _anything_. He’s seen Luka run straight into the line of fire during akuma battles. He’s seen Luka do plenty of stupid shit without his Miraculous, too. Things that normal people would be scared of but Luka always approached with a devil-may-care smile. To Dingo, who’s been flying since he was a kid (he was five the first time they’d left Australia, and his life has been a series of long-ass plane rides back ever since), the thought that someone like Luka could get so rattled by a plane is just crazy.

“Mate,” he says, sounding half exasperated and half amused. Luka won’t even look at him. He just presses his head harder against the headrest and groans. “ _Relax_. It’s just a plane.”

“I hate flying,” Luka mutters through clenched teeth. “I have never flown before, but I know I’m going to hate it. I hate this so much.”

“…what?” Dingo asks, propping his shades up to get a better look at him. Luka’s lips are pressed together so tightly they’ve turned white. “You’ve been to Scotland almost every summer since I’ve known you.”

“We sail,” Luka says, as if that’s explanation enough. Dingo is _baffled_.

“No way,” he laughs, because what else can he do? It’s _absurd_. He knows Luka lives on a boat, but he’s never seen the Liberty actually _sail_ (…well, aside from that one time it was supercharged by evil butterflies). “Every time?”

“Every time,” Luka confirms. There’s an announcement from the front of the plane: they’ll be taking off in five minutes. “Ma…Ma flew _once_ , but it was an emergency and we didn’t go with her. Boat Kid, remember?”

“Yeah, but…planes are so much _faster_ ,” Dingo says with a helpless little wave of his hand. “Shit. Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

He wouldn’t have been so insistent about Luka joining him if he’d known. Well. That’s not entirely true, but he would’ve been better prepared.

“I wanted to come,” Luka says, and it says a _lot_ about his mental state that he doesn’t elbow Dingo when he snickers. “This is important to you, so it’s important to me. And I have to get over this anyway, right? Before…oh, God…”

He screws his eyes shut tighter and grits his teeth. He looks like he’s going to be sick.

“Breathe through your nose,” Dingo says. He’s not sure how that will help, but he’d heard somewhere that it should. “Count to ten and think of Marinette.”

…he did punch him that time, but at least he’s smiling now. That’s an improvement, even if he still looks ill.

“I can’t wait to see you tell Jagged Stone you’re scared of flying,” Dingo snickers after Luka’s taken a few deep, steadying breaths. Luka’s hand hasn’t returned to the armrest yet, so he slaps him again. “You’ve been on tour before, though!”

“European tour. We took the bus everywhere,” Luka says. He bumps his head back against the seat. “London we took the train. Penny says flying with a crocodile is a logistical _nightmare_.”

“I want to feel bad for you, but this is kinda hilarious,” Dingo say, leaning back in his seat. “Do you need a bag? You gonna ralph?”

“Asshole,” Luka groans.

“Still thinking of Mari?” Dingo wheedles.

“If I was thinking about Mari I’d be safe in bed right now,” Luka bites. “Don’t make me kill you.”

“It’ll be easier after takeoff,” Dingo tries to reassure him. “Takeoff’s the worst of it.”

“Oh, God,” Luka groans, his entire body recoiling in a wince, “ _we’re gonna be in the air._ ”

“…that’s the point of flying, yep,” Dingo says.

“I belong in the water,” Luka says. “Pirates don’t fly. We float.”

“ _We all float down here,_ ” Dingo teases, and Luka punches him again.

“Ass. Hole,” he bites, but then the seatbelt light is on and they’re being told they’re good to go. Luka’s only marginally better once they’re in the air, but it’s almost a full day of flying to Sydney and their only stop is many hours away yet. Luka sleeps through most of the first part. Dingo has to drug him with a sleeping medication found at the airport pharmacy for the second.

Luka’s more than a little green when they finally touch down in Dingo’s motherland, having woken up about an hour before landing and spending the remainder of the flight running scales in his mind. It’s almost worth all the hassle when Dingo’s least favorite aunt greets them at the airport and, instead of introducing himself like the polite young adult he is, Luka immediately hurls on her shoes.


	31. Oct 31: Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luka's marrying Marinette, and he hates it.
> 
> Dingo thinks he's a fucking idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Reflection  
> Character/Pairing: Dingo King (OC), Luka Couffaine, Marinette Dupain-Cheng; Lukanette  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Notes: This one got a little silly towards the end. Whoops. (Whooooo it’s over! Thanks for sticking with me through this, guys!)

Dingo’s sitting at the back of the little room in the old church, hunched over with his elbow on his knees and his chin in his hand. His sunglasses are a simple black today and dark enough to hide the amusement in his eyes, but they don’t really hide how high his eyebrows have lifted. It was his one capitulation to Marinette: he’d agreed to wear a _respectable_ pair of shades, but he’d refused to forgo them entirely.

When he’d told her that, she’d given him a look halfway between desperate and thankful and told him she hadn’t expected him to, anyway.

Luka starts fidgeting again, bringing his attention back to the man of the hour. He looks a lot less excited than Dingo would have thought he’d look today. He would’ve thought Luka would be wearing a face-splitting, shit-eating grin, but he supposes none of this is exactly how they’d planned it. Luka fidgets with his _cufflinks_ again, and Dingo’s sorely tempted to chuck something at him.

“Mate,” he calls, and he has to say it again before Luka acknowledges him. He gives him a bemused smile. “You good?”

“…no,” Luka confesses. Dingo frowns.

“You’re marrying Marinette today,” he says, and there’s a flicker of a smile that disappears when Luka looks back at his reflection.

“I’m marrying Marinette today,” he says, and Dingo’s frown deepens. He doesn’t sound excited about it at all, and that’s just not right. He doesn’t even sound wonderstruck, which is his other default when discussing his bride-to-be.

“Lu?” he calls. Luka smooths out his waistcoat, his lips pressed together.

“It’s stupid,” he finally says.

“Lu,” Dingo says, and Luka sighs.

“It’s just…it doesn’t feel right,” Luka finally admits, looking away from his reflection. He picks at something on his kilt, but it’s more a nervous tick than anything that’s actually there. “None of this feels right.”

“You’re marrying Marinette,” Dingo says again, and there’s the smile.

“Ok,” Luka concedes. “ _One thing_ feels right.”

“Just one?” Dingo wheedles.

“This isn’t the wedding we wanted,” Luka says. He finally turns away from the mirror and joins Dingo at the back of the room, sitting heavily in the chair beside him. “None of this is what we wanted. But then Audrey stepped in and…I wanted to do this on the boat. Ten people tops. Not this media circus out there.”

“Enough of your lives are public,” Dingo says, nodding. “You wanted this to just be you.”

“I wanted this to just be us,” Luka confirms. He’s fidgeting with the cufflinks again. Dingo can’t help but think if he doesn’t stop they’ll pop off.

“Would talking to Mari help?” Dingo asks, and Luka shrugs. “Remind you why you’re putting up with it?”

“Because I love Marinette, and at the end of the day I get to take her home as my wife, and that’s all that ultimately matters,” Luka says nodding with each point. He pushes out a breath and runs a hand down his face. “The how and where don’t matter. At the end of the day it’s still us.”

“At the end of the day she’s gonna be Marinette Couffaine,” Dingo reminds him, and Luka’s smile is a bit steadier at that.

“At the end of the day she’s gonna be Marinette Couffaine,” he repeats. Dingo nudges him with his shoulder, but before they can say anything else there’s a knock at the door. It’s opening before Luka can answer, and they both gawk as Marinette rushes inside. Luka’s eyes bug and his jaw drops, but he’s barely registered her presence before Dingo’s slapping a hand over his eyes.

“Oi!” he says, tilting his head to glare at her over his shades. “Bad luck, baby girl!”

“I don’t give two shits, Dingo King,” Marinette huffs. All they can hear is the rustling of fabric as she moves to Luka, dropping to her knees in a sea of crinoline and lace as her skirts puff out around her. She takes Luka’s hands and presses her lips to his fingers. “This is horrible. I hate this. Luka, we’re getting _married_ , and I _hate_ it.”

“…you two are fucking ridiculous,” Dingo groans, and Luka shoves him off before looking back at Marinette.

“I hate my dress,” she says, and his heart lurches at the tears swimming in her eyes. “This isn’t my dress, Luka. It’s _Audrey’s_. I want to burn it. I know she was just trying to be nice, but this is all _wrong_. Luka, I can’t marry you like this. I can’t –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Marinette,” he says quickly, and he’s sliding out of his chair to kneel before her. He pries his fingers from her grip and cups her face in his hands, brushing a thumb beneath her eye. “Breathe, darning. You…it’s ok. You look beautiful.”

“No, I _don’t_ ,” she whines. “I look like _Audrey_. This is _her_ wedding, Luka. It’s not _ours_.”

“I know,” Luka sighs, tilting her head to press his lips against her forehead. “I know. I’m so sorry. I hate this, too.”

“Why don’t you just run off, then?” Dingo asks, and they both pause as they blink at him. He rolls his eyes and drops his chin back in his hand. “Seriously. Neither of you want to be here. Just…sneak out the back. Text your parents to meet you at the boat. Chuck the dress in the river.”

“…we can’t do that,” Marinette gasps, the words sounding so small. Her eyes are wide, but when she looks back at Luka he’s grinning. She swallows, shaking her head. “We can’t…oh my God, we can’t do that. Can…can we? Can we do that?”

“I’ve hated this wedding since your boss got involved,” Luka tells her, pulling her close for a soft kiss. “I will do whatever you want to do, Marinette. As long as we’re married at the end of the day, I don’t care how it happens.”

“Bullshit,” Dingo snorts, kicking at him. If there’s a scuff mark on Audrey Bourgeois’s custom waistcoat, Dingo doesn’t really give a shit, either. “You were _just_ telling me how much you hate this. You don’t wanna marry her today, either.”

“I want to marry you,” they both say quickly, then they’re laughing and he’s kissing her again.

“That’s all that matters,” Luka says, but he still sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

“I could lose my job if we leave,” Marinette whispers against his lips.

“Jagged’ll hire you on the spot, and you’re talented enough you can build your own design house without her clout,” Luka reminds her.

“Her clout will make things easier,” Marinette reminds him.

“Her clout can suck it,” Dingo adds, and Marinette rolls her eyes. “Seriously. I can make your apologies. Create the distraction. Go find a courthouse and get married already.”

“What do you say, Marinette?” Luka asks, and she’s laughing a little manically as he pulls her closer. “Marry me anywhere but here?”

“I love that she tried,” Marinette says, but she still sounds like she’s convincing herself.

“You just hate how she did it,” Luka says. Marinette whines against his chest.

“Dingo looks _normal_ ,” she says, and they all laugh at that. Marinette blinks back tears as she looks at Dingo. “I wanted you to look like you. I’m so sorry, Ding.”

“I’ll rip the sleeves off in time for the real ceremony,” Dingo says, waving her off. Luka helps her up, and it’s a bit of a struggle with how bulky Audrey Bourgeois’s custom wedding gown is. Dingo jabs his thumb towards the closet. “There’s spare clothes in there. Might be easier to run out of…that. Now get out of here. I don’t know how long I can stall before Rose comes looking for you.”

At the end of the day, the _wedding of the year_ ended up taking place on a beat-up old boat five blocks away from the church where Audrey Bourgeois was calling the police on the mohawk-sporting best man. It was officiated by the mother of the groom, and the only witnesses were their parents, the groom’s sister and her girlfriend, and a happy crocodile. The groom was still wearing his kilt, but he’d shucked the waistcoat for an old Jagged Stone t-shirt (which had amused his dad to no ends). The bride, ironically enough, was also wearing a kilt and an old Jagged Stone shirt. (It still wasn’t _her_ dress, but it was worlds better than what Audrey had designed.)

…the bride ignored the voicemail telling her how _fired, utterly fired_ she was as they flew off on their honeymoon, but she came back to three new job offers anyway (two were from rival fashion houses and one was from her new father-in-law).


End file.
